


It Started With A Whisper

by allyasavedtheday, warmth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Also Lydia works with Stiles and loves Jackson who's best friend is Danny, Alternate Universe - College, Alternate Universe - Human, And Allison loves Scott and Scott loves Allison, And Derek loves Stiles, But Derek also loves Kate and Kate is Allison's sister, But Kate broke them up and Scott is Stiles' best friend and their other friend is Isaac, F/M, Gen, In which Stiles loves Derek, M/M, who is friends with Derek who is friends with Erica and Boyd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyasavedtheday/pseuds/allyasavedtheday, https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmth/pseuds/warmth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m Stiles, by the way. In case you did, you know, need something, cause Librarian is kind of an old lady term and… yeah. So, Stiles. S-T-I-L-E-S, like that one dude in that band from the UK.”</p><p>Or the one where Derek and Stiles are both in college, Stiles is the school's librarian, and Derek is just trying to study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Look, all I’m saying is, I don’t understand how you  _already_ have a huge project to do and we’ve barely been back a month. Don’t the professors usually wait until around November to assign all this stuff so they can drive their students to insanity with stress?”

Derek gave a derisive snort, eyeing Boyd skeptically. “Maybe I’m just trying to avoid being driven to insanity in November?”

“Yeah, yeah. I still don’t understand why  _I’m_ helping you? Isn’t that your girlfriend’s job?” Boyd complained, though it didn’t have the desired effect since he was more focused on texting Erica.

“It’s not Kate’s job to help me with my homework. She has other jobs to attend to—“

“Oh my God. Stop talking,” Boyd groaned. “It’s bad enough that I accidentally walk in on you guys like every week.”

Derek merely laughed. “Because you and Erica are so much better at locking the door,” he retorted. “Besides, she hates all this criminology stuff, so you, as my kind-hearted roommate, get the job of helping me tear the library apart to find the book I need,” he smiled charmingly.

“Totally didn’t sign up for this in freshman year when I agreed to be your roommate,” Boyd grumbled.

The boys were making their way across campus to the college library when they heard someone call out behind them. “Derek! Boyd! Wait up!”

They turned to see Isaac jogging towards them. He slowed down to walk in time with them and took a breath before grinning.

“You’re coming Friday night, right?”

“What’s Friday night?” Derek asked.

“My kickass, ‘better-than-everyone-else’s-parties’ party,  _obviously,_ ” Isaac drawled, slinging an arm over both Derek and Boyd’s shoulders.

Derek scoffed, “You  _have_ seen the size of your dorm room, right?”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “Some people will be in the corridors too. God Derek, haven’t you seen any college parties in all those cliché rom-coms you watch?”

Derek glared in response, much to Boyd and Isaac’s amusement. “Well, Erica and I will be there,” Boyd cut in, still smirking at Derek.

At both Boyd and Isaac’s expectant looks, Derek sighed. “Can I bring Kate?”

Isaac considered it a personal feat that he refrained from rolling his eyes just from the sound of her name. “Sure you can, lover boy. Now, I gotta catch Scott before he finishes work.” Isaac started walking backwards in front of the boys to stare pointedly at Derek. “Remember! Party Friday night. Seven-thirty. Be there. Later guys!”

Isaac turned around to sprint off when Boyd called him back, “Isaac, wait up! I’m coming with you.” At Derek’s affronted look, Boyd just shrugged.

“What? I could go to the coffee shop with Isaac and meet my girlfriend for coffee or I could go to the library with you to research a case study for a class I’m not even taking. I think my choice is obvious.”

Derek scoffed but shoved Boyd along. “Fine. Go. Some friend you are!” he called after the other boy. He heard Boyd and Isaac chuckle and didn’t miss the kiss Isaac blew in his direction. Why was he friends with these people again?

Derek continued on to the library, quickly dialling Kate’s number.

“Hey, Handsome.” He could hear her grin even through the phone. It made him grin in return.

“Hey, you. What time are we meeting for dinner?”

“Oh, shoot! I can’t tonight. I thought I told you? I’m treating Allison. Trying to take her mind off that McCall kid.”

“Scott?” He didn’t know much about him other than that he was part of Isaac’s other group of friends. He’d met him a few times when he’d first started going out with Kate while Scott and Allison were still together. After that, all he knew was that they broke up. No one told him why, nor did he particularly care. But Scott had served Derek coffee once or twice and he didn’t seem like too bad of a kid. Kate, on the other hand, despised him.

“Yeah, I don’t know why she’s still so hung up on him. They’ve been broken up for nearly a year.” He could hear Allison’s voice in the background and then Kate’s scoff. “Anyway, I’m trying to distract her. We can do dinner Friday, though.”

Derek thought for a minute, that was the night of Isaac’s party. He didn’t exactly  _want_ to go, but his friends always complained that he needed to get out more. Not that any of  _them_ were any sort of social butterflies – well, maybe with the exception of Isaac. But he said he’d go and he always kept his word.

“Actually, there’s a party at Isaac’s on Friday. He invited us.”

“Oh, Allison was talking about that earlier. I guess we can go.”

“Great. Uh…see you tomorrow?”

Kate’s laugh tinkled in his ear. “Of course, silly! Why do you always sound so unsure?”

“Hah, no reason. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Derek hung up the phone and glared at it for a few minutes. Why was he always so nervous around Kate? He could strike the fear of God into anyone. Why did he turn into a puddle of mush around her? Stupid love and its stupid side effects.

After pocketing his phone, he pushed the library door open and wandered in. It was quiet – okay, so that’s not actually unlikely – but it was almost eerily quiet. There were obviously no other students in there. The boy at the desk was spinning idly on his chair with his feet propped up on the desk, looking bored out of his mind.

However, when the boy heard Derek approaching, he turned so quickly the chair toppled and he went crashing to the ground with a yelp. The boy shot up an instant later, tangled in his headphones. “ _I’m fine!_  I’m fine, I’m fine.”

Derek gave him an unimpressed look, but bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. He wasn’t a robot, okay? He was susceptible to slapstick humor every now and again. But the boy didn’t need to know that.

He began to walk past the desk when a hand shot out and grabbed Derek’s arm. Derek stared down at the hand clutching his sleeve and then up at the boy, eyeing him expectantly. The boy dropped his hand immediately and Derek resisted smiling smugly.

“Um…” The boy cleared his throat. “If you need help with anything, like finding a book or something… Uh, I can do that. Because that’s… Y’know… My job. So… yeah.” The boy scratched the back of his neck nervously, meeting Derek’s eyes fleetingly, before falling back into his chair with a slump.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Derek nodded, affording the boy the smallest of smirks. To which the boy’s eyes went wide and he immediately looked down at his laptop. Though his eyes flitted up to Derek again, but upon seeing Derek still staring he looked away again.

Derek smirked again, before striding off. It was fun intimidating people; it gave him a nice ego boost. Especially after he acted like such an idiot with Kate.

*

The librarian boy - Stiles, as he’d introduced himself for the third time, popping out behind a shelf and trying to help Derek - was familiar. As was his name.

It wasn’t until Derek was rifling through a dusty old top shelf that he realized why. He was a friend of Isaac’s. Isaac always talked about the crazy things Scott and Stiles did, Derek had just never paid much attention before. And Allison. She was friends with him too. He could remember her mentioning meeting him for lunch a few times before. And Allison’s other friend. The scary red-head girl. She talked about Stiles all the time. Huh, it was weird putting a face to the name.

But wait, didn’t the scary red-headed girl work here, too? He  _would_ ask Stiles, if he cared at all about a twenty-year-old on this campus’ life. Which he doesn’t, aside from Isaac… Okay, and Allison, too. But that’s it.

And he certainly wasn’t intrigued by this boy Stiles, who Derek caught staring at him every few minutes with a mixture of what could only be morbid curiosity and a little fear. Which really only served to make Derek feel better about himself. But sometimes… he might’ve stared back.

Okay, so he was a little intrigued.

*

Stiles was caught up in a super-marathon head bobbing contest with himself when Gorgeous Guy strolled in.

It was a normal day, one where he had routinely woken up late, had his usual morning chat with Scott as he sprang out of bed with ten minutes to spare, basking in the glow of what he still considered “early,” before heading off to brush his teeth and find a shirt that wasn’t dirty. He made a quick coffee run where Scott worked after his first class, the burst of caffeine shooting through his veins, fingers dancing along the tops of tables. Isaac had caught up with him as he was walking to the library for work, asking him about a party.

“Hey, Stiles, wait up!” the blonde boy had called, smiling and matching his strides.

“Yo, Isaac,” Stiles grinned back. “Are you going to walk me to work? Ugh, you’re such a gentleman.” He shook his head. “Let’s be honest right now, is this your way of leading up to a love confession?”

Isaac raised his eyebrows, “No, I—“

“Dude, are you sure? I’m getting serious vibes from you right now—“ He broke off in a series of snickers as the other boy shoved him. “Hey, alright, alright! What’s up?”

“You’re coming to my party Friday night, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I am, why?”

“Okay, awesome! I’ll catch up with you later, I gotta go find Derek!” Isaac ignored his question.

“Uh, okay?” He shook his head. And people said  _he_ was all over the place. Stiles swung through the doors of the library cheerily, he had even started whistling. There wasn’t anyone to tell him not to, after all, especially since the library was almost always dead empty this time of day with most people in class or eating lunch or something.

Grinning, he swung himself over the front desk, taking in the crisp smell of paper and glue, the windows casting a bright light over the building’s picturesque insides. This was the reason, after all, that he had taken the job. Aside from, of course, the chance to study _a _nd_  _do what he had to at the same time.

Stiles made himself comfortable, plucking up Lydia’s post-it note telling him she’d gone on her lunch break and stuffing it in his pocket. Not uncharacteristically, he didn’t really feel like doing work, but knew if he did it now, he wouldn’t have to do it later and that would pay off in the end.

Sighing dramatically to himself, he untwined his headphones from his iPod, pulling out a highlighter, a notebook, and his lit book and scrawling a few words. His mind, apparently, wasn’t in the mood either, and he found himself reading over the same sentence again and again. Stiles had slammed the book closed, leaving it there for later use, losing himself in the music and propping his feet up on the desk, spinning in the chair, bored out of his mind.

The door always let him know if there was someone in the library. It made a little swishing sound as it slid across the carpet. The guy was practically sauntering, a strange mix of male model and Danny Zuko, with sharp cheekbones, perfectly coiffed dark hair, and a leather jacket that wrapped around his frame as though it was made for him. Stiles turned the rest of himself so fast he toppled out of his chair, crashing to the floor. He let out a very  _manly_ yelp, picking himself up just as quickly. His cheeks flushed as he felt himself tangled in his own headphones, the cord wrapping itself around his bicep and up to his neck like a noose.

“ _I’m fine!_ I’m fine, I’m fine,” he called, holding up his hands like a convict and repeating the notion in case the Zuko-Model was worried about him. The exceptionally  _gorgeous_ guy--Honestly, he looked like one of the poster guys from that stupid calendar Lydia had bought for him one year as a gag gift, Hot Guys and, like, puppies, or something--gave him an unimpressed look, walking past the desk.

Feeling the need to keep talking, even to wipe that look off his face, Stiles’ hand shot out, grasping at his sleeve. He dropped it like it was on fire, though, when he slowly trailed his eyes from Stiles’ hand and up to his face. Okay, so maybe this guy was a bit scary, too.

“Um…” He cleared his throat, mind racing. “So, uh, if you need any help,” Oh God, that was horrible phrasing right there. Next thing you know, he would be inviting him to have a party in his pants or something. “With anything, like finding a book or something… Uh, I can do that. Because that’s… Y’know… My job. So… yeah.” Feeling exceptionally underwhelming, Stiles clamped his mouth shut and prayed for some greater deity to grant him those superpowers he always wished for for Christmas and let him sink into the floor right about now.

Apparently, the greater deities didn’t feel like granting his wishes, since his life was a great big joke to them –  _thanks_ \- so he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, meet the guy’s eyes fleetingly. Bad choice, _r _eally_  _bad choice; those eyes were as stormy as a rough sea. He felt himself slipping into them, and fell back into the chair, slumping forward and dropping his gaze to his laptop.

Jesus, this guy wasn’t fair.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Apparently, the universe was just dying to screw with him, and made this guy’s voice as smooth as silk, but rough, and low. Stiles suppressed a shiver at his smirk – he would probably end up being a crazy murderer or something, knowing Stiles’ luck.

He watched Gorgeous guy for about ten minutes, before springing out of his seat and bounding over, nearly falling over his shoulder as he leaned over to see what he was looking at. Surprisingly, the guy didn’t jump the way Scott did when he approached that way. Well, that just ruined the effect. Instead, he shot him a withering look that made him only cringe  _slightly._

“I’m Stiles, by the way. In case you did, you know, need something, ‘cause Librarian is kind of an old lady term and… yeah. So, Stiles. S-T-I-L-E-S, like that one dude in that band from the UK.” He lowered his burning cheeks, not sure why he was turning into a strung out, bundle of nerves—

Stupid coffee.

He glared at a dusty copy of  _Little Women,_  as though it were to blame for his troubles, trudging back over to his desk. He couldn’t resist staring a bit though, as much curious as he was attracted to this guy, who still had refused to give up his name, for all Stiles’ humiliating attempts. And a bit scared.

Okay, a lot scared.

But what was the thrill if there wasn’t a little fear involved, right?

*

Stiles stabbed forcefully at his ramen, tangling them up in his chopsticks.

Scott lounged boneless at his side, already having made his way through a packet of frozen mini pizzas.

“Like, he’s so  _rude._ Good looks don’t get you everywhere, my friend, let me tell you. And you know man, who  _is_ he anyway?”

The door slammed before Scott could answer, revealing a perfectly dressed Lydia Martin, not a hair out of place.

“Who are we talking about?” She asked, plopping down beside him.

“The guy from earlier! In the library? He was walking out when you were coming in, really hot, gorgeous eyes, kind of snarly?”  

Scott and Lydia shared a look.

“Stiles…”

“You don’t mean…”

“I think he does—“

“Guys!” he interrupted, taking a large bite of the noodles hung precariously over the wooden sticks clasped in his hand, attempting to catch all of them before they dropped back into the spicy water. Scott swallowed.

“I think you mean  _Derek Hale,_ man.”

Where had he heard that before? “Derek Hale…”

Lydia gave him an incredulous look. “Derek Hale! Oh my God, you can’t  _not know_ Derek Hale, Stiles.”

“Seriously, bro, even  _I_ know him,” Scott intoned.

“Wait…” Stiles’ eyes widened. “ _Derek Hale,_ Derek Hale? Isaac’s friend?”  _That’s who he was talking about._  “The one dating Insane Argent?”

The duo at his side nodded urgently. Lydia stood, saying she was off to the bathroom. The sound of water running briefly overpowered whatever was on TV. Scott gave Stiles a sympathetic look.

“Stop it, man.”

“What?” he asked, shocked.

“You know what! You’re looking at me like—“ Stiles gestured blindingly, falling back against the couch. “Like I fell for the wrong person!”

Scott shot him a guilty look.

“I didn’t! Scott, I don’t like Derek Hale! He’s a total ass! Actually, I don’t even  _know_ Derek Hale.”

Lydia popped her head back out of the bathroom, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, okay, I guess I know him! But still! He’s an  _ass._ ”

The knowing looks they gave made his insides crawl a little.

He, Stiles Stilinski, didn’t like Derek Hale.

He was just, you know, mildly attracted to him.

*

 


	2. Chapter 2

Derek had barely knocked on Kate and Allison's door when it was flung open and Allison was standing before him, eyelash curler in hand. "Hey! Kate's in the shower, come on in." She smiled brightly at him and stepped back to allow him pass.  
  
"Actually, Kate's not in the shower," Kate replied, striding out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel.  
  
"Well, you look nice," Derek smirked playfully, stepping into the room.  
  
"I'm in a towel?"  
  
"Yeah.  _You look nice_ ," he repeated emphatically.  
  
Kate grinned, moving forward to greet Derek with a kiss when Allison cut in. "Oh my God, please take your creepy flirting and PDA to Derek's room."  
  
Kate laughed, pecking Derek's lips again before moving to her closet, "Can't. Derek only has one mirror and that's just asking for a bloodbath."  
  
*  
"So what? Kate puts her clothes on and you take yours off? I'm not even a guy and you're hurting my ego."  
  
Derek looked over his shoulder to see Allison leaning against the door frame, grinning at him amusedly. He scoffed and continued applying his shaving cream. "I don't want to get shaving cream on it."  
  
"Uh-huh, yeah. That's why you're shirtless, not because you're trying to flaunt your rippling pectorals to impress my sister." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively but Derek had made a decision a long time ago to ignore Allison whenever she became hell-bent on embarrassing him. She always had better comebacks. Keeping quiet allowed him to keep his dignity at least.  
  
"You know, you’ve been together a year. You don't need to try so hard."  
  
"Have you noticed your sister's not very easily pleased?"  
  
"I heard that!" Kate called from the other room.  
  
Allison laughed and wandered back into the bedroom.  
  
"Hey Allison, who's going to this thing anyway?" Derek asked, raising his voice slightly so she could hear him from the bedroom.  
  
Allison poked her head back in the door as she put on her earrings, "Um well there's me, Lydia, Jackson and Danny...Oh and Scott and Stiles too!"  
  
"Stiles..."  
  
"Yeah. You've met him before, right? He's Scott's best friend."  
  
That was the cute librarian guy. No. The  _not cute, stupid_  librarian guy. That Derek hadn't thought of  _at all_ since they met. Really. He hadn't. "He works in the library?"  
  
"Yup that's him!" Allison quirked an eyebrow and Derek cursed himself when he realized he was smiling at nothing. "What?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. I, uh, he helped me find a book at the library the other day."  
  
"Oh really?" Derek didn't like the look she was giving him. That girl knew too much. No, she  _thought_  she knew too much. In actual fact, she didn't know anything. At all. She just watched too many CW shows.  
  
Thankfully, his wonderful, fantastic girlfriend had impeccable timing and leaned over Allison’s shoulder before the younger girl could say any more. "I'm going down to the laundry room to get my dress out of the drier. Be back in a few." Derek just nodded and smiled at her.  
  
As he grabbed his shirt again Allison sat down on the ledge of the bath, her mood seemingly having shifted completely. She looked like she wanted to talk. And he knew exactly who she wanted to talk about because there are only a handful of people Allison Argent gets nervous about. Crap. Why do people come to him for advice? Him and pep talks do not mix. But, ugh fine. He'll try. "So...you're still hung up on Scott, huh?"  
  
Allison jumped and her eyes widened but then she just sighed, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands. "Is it that obvious?"  
  
"Well, no. But I've heard his name quite a lot the past few days."  
  
"Ugh, it's just...I was talking to Stiles and Lydia the other day and they kept putting ideas in my head and Scott just  _has_  to be the most charmingly goofy guy on the planet all the time and I-"  
  
"Allison," Derek spoke over her, "if you love him so much, why aren't you still together?"  
  
Allison straightened and bit her bottom lip. "Oh, it doesn't matter."  
  
"It obviously does," he pointed out.  
  
"I don't want you to think badly of Kate..."  
  
Derek looked at her puzzled, "Why would I do that?"  
  
Allison seemed to be at war with herself and Derek was way too confused to even begin making sense of what she just said. "The thing is...my dad and Kate never liked Scott, I don't really know why but I accepted it. But then last year she kept saying things like he was cheating on me and of course, I didn't believe her but she just kept pushing and I snapped. And then Scott and I got into a  _huge_  argument and we couldn't fix it."  
  
"...Kate's the reason you broke up?" Derek asked after a moment's silence.  
  
" _No!_  Well, kind of. And yeah I'm still pissed about it but this is a sisterly thing. Between sisters. It has no effect on your relationship or your opinion of her, right?"  
  
Allison looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her up. It was obvious she regretted opening her mouth to begin with. And Derek himself was starting to regret bringing it up. He knew Kate was...aggressive but would she really ruin her own sister's relationship just because she didn't like Scott? Maybe Allison just needed someone to blame...Yeah that was probably it...  
  
"Yeah, Allison. It's fine, don't worry about it." Derek forced a smile to calm her nerves. Allison visibly relaxed but still had that anxious look in her eye.  
  
"And as for Scott, he'd be a total idiot not to still be in love with you. Especially with the way you look tonight." Allison blushed but stood up and kissed Derek's cheek.  
  
"Thanks, Derek." She smiled gratefully and exited the bathroom once more. Derek really did like Allison and that was saying something because he didn't like very many people. He practically considered her a younger sister at this point. Though he was at a loss as to how he should react to this situation between her, Kate and Scott. So what if Kate did break them up. She was allowed to have flaws. Like he told Allison, it was fine. They were fine...  
  
"Derek, are you ready?" Kate was standing in the doorway holding out her hand, gesturing for him to take it. He shook all those thoughts out of his head - that was something for another night - and smiled and took her hand.  
  
"I'll catch up," Allison said, slipping on her heels. "I'm nearly ready."  
  
Kate gave her a curious look but shrugged, "Fine. See you there."  
  
*  
  
“Zip me up!”  
  
Stiles looked up from his perch on the couch. Lydia gave him a once over.  
  
“Really, Stiles? Batman briefs?”  
  
He felt his cheeks heat up but grinned, standing in his near nudity and bouncing over to drag the zipper along her spine. She pulled at the hem of her dress, adjusting it a little, flipping her hair in the mirror and pouting her lips.  
  
“So, why do you always get ready here?” Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows. Scott walked by, brushing his teeth and letting out a muddled, “Yeah!”  
  
Lydia rifled through her bag, lining her lips with a sparkly gloss. “Because,” She pressed the gloss in with her finger, lips making a little popping sound. “Kate is always around Allison, and I,” Lydia whirled around, smiling pleasantly. “Don’t like her.”  
  
Scott’s eyes widened at Allison’s name and Stiles winced internally. Poor guy. He reached out and squeezing his shoulder lightly. His best friend gave him a grateful half smile, nudging him.  
  
“Put on some clothes, man. We've gotta go soon.”  
  
In an attempt at cheering him up, Stiles wiggled his hips suggestively, baring a bit of smooth hip bone poking out from his underwear. “Oh, don’t pretend like you all weren't ogling me. Just admit it; I know I'm a  _very_  attractive guy.” He gave them both a superior look, tilting up his chin.  
  
“Nice big ego, too.” Scott said through a snort, shoving his shoulder half-heartedly.  
  
Lydia just rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand and tugging him over to his closet. She threw it open, looking in appraisingly.  
  
“God, Stiles, what am I supposed to do with this?” She gestured blindly towards his closet, pulling things out at random. “Don’t you own one pair of good jeans?”  
  
Stiles groaned, hoping she didn't get to the back of the—  
  
Lydia made a triumphant sound and he knew she had found the pants. She pulled out of the closet, tossing him a red button up and a the single pair of skinny jeans that Scott had grabbed him once on an old shopping excursion to the mall while scoping out Allison before they were together, and shoved at him as an excuse for him to ask Allison, who used to work at Forever 21, if she had a thing for Scott, too.  
  
She did.  
  
Stiles groaned, making a big deal about it the entire time pulling himself into the fitted jeans that were just a little baggy. Lydia clasped her hands together.  
  
“Perfect.” She poked him in the flat expanse of chest that was still exposed, stopping his fingers. Just to irritate her, he tucked in his shirt, buttoning it all the way up and strutting past. He grinned when he caught Lydia scowling.  
  
“Ow! Stop trying to maim me, sadist!” Stiles hissed as her nails came into contact with his skin as she yanked the shirt out, letting it hang attractively.  
  
“Well, you do have to look your best for Hale, right?” Lydia tilted her head, smiling disarmingly. He stuck out his tongue, practically growling when Scott’s laughter erupted from the bathroom.  
  
“It isn’t funny you guys! I just didn’t know who he was!” He ran a hand over his hair, rolling his eyes and unbuttoning his shirt a little. “Now, I’m going to go to my friend’s party and get wasted. So, you two can stay here laughing about my lack of knowledge, and this will be the only time I’ll ever admit to that again, or we can all go together, you,” Stiles shot Lydia a pointed look. “Can act like you just took a hit of acid whenever Kate is around, and Scott here can grow another pair of balls and not let Insane Argent get in the way of him and Allison’s sweetheartness.”  
  
Scott gave him a wounded look. Lydia nodded approvingly. Stiles sighed.  
  
“I miss Allison, man. I even miss living vicariously through you.” That got a laugh. “I know you miss Allison. I know Allison misses you. So, why don’t you miss each other together?” Stiles wiggled his fingers into entwining, before slinging an arm over his shoulders and offering Lydia his arm. They walked across the campus together.  
  
“I’m going to make a fool out of myself, aren’t I?” Stiles asked happily as the stared up at Isaac’s dorm.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Scott replied, bobbing his head. “I think I will, too.”  
  
“Definitely.” Lydia smiled at them both, before strutting into the building like it was a catwalk.  
  
“Every way is a runway for Lydia Martin,” Stiles snickered, jogging after her.  
  
“And every day is an opportunity for a bad joke, right?”  
  
Stiles gave him a look. Really, his best friend could be so stiff sometimes; his jokes were equal parts witty and condescending! He scoffed, slowing his pace, shoulders relaxing as he took in the sound of happy conversations and sloshing drinks. An easy smile spread and he buried his hands in his pockets, looking around for a shock of blonde curls, or a wave of strawberry blonde, even effortless looking brown hair and sweet doe eyes.  
  
Instead, he was met by stormy looking green gray ones and downturned eyebrows.  
  
Well, dammit.  
  
Stiles went back to his fall back plan, aka cursing the deities and maybe even the entire universe.  
  
“Heeey… Derek,” he said slowly, biting his lip. “I’m just gonna skedaddle. Oh? Oh, what’s that Isaac? Yeah, Isaac is calling me!”  
  
“I’m calling you?” Isaac asked amusedly from behind him, arms crossed.  
  
He cursed. Derek gave him a pitying sort of look.  
  
“Ugh, just… Whatever. I’m going to go get drunk. Awesome party, Isaac! You’re doing well, my man.” He clamped two hands on the other boy’s shoulders, smiling. Isaac rolled his eyes fondly. Stiles ducked his head, feeling his cheeks burn as he practically sprinted away and tried to resist banging his head against the wall. He made a fool out of himself, as expected.  
  
Stiles sighed, figuring nothing could be as bad as his teenage years and reaching around behind him to grab a red solo cup. Lydia and Scott landed beside him, leaning against what Stiles had dubbed the booze table. There was a lot of booze. It was a boozy sort of occasion.  
  
“Stop saying booze, Stiles,” Scott said amusedly.  
  
Okay, not in his head, apparently. Stiles sniggered, and Lydia giggled a little, stealing his cup and taking a swig before handing it back.  
  
“Cheap,” she remarked. He shook his head, noticing that Scott’s attention had already redirected. He made a few beeping sounds.  
  
“Allison Alert!” Lydia bobbed her head, throwing a wave over her shoulder as she walked over. Stiles shoved his friend.  
  
“What?”  
  
He gave Scott a look. “Don’t ‘what’ me! Go!”  
  
Scott gave a sweet smile, before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah!”  
  
“That’s my boy!”  
  
“Yeah!”  
  
He winced a little when Scott careened into another person. “Good enthusiasm.”  
  
The other person, apparently, wasn’t derailed.  
  
As he lived and breathed.  
  
That was Erica Reyes.  
  
Stiles shrunk a little, hiding his face with the cup.  
  
“Do you really think I can’t see you because there’s a  _cup_  over your mouth?”  
  
He lowered the cup, putting on a nervous smile. Erica had her hands on her hips, giving him an unimpressed look that was highly reminiscent of Derek. He wondered if they were friends as he took another sip, tossing the cup in the trash to his left and grabbing another.  
  
“I’m Erica.” The blonde smirked, red lips curling up suggestively.  
  
“Stiles. Like the guy. In the UK band that all move North or something.” He shot off shamelessly, holding out a hand. Erica cracked a tiny smile at that, but just trailed her eyes from his hand to his eyes.  
  
“I like you already, Stiles like the guy in the UK band that all move North or something.”  
  
He raised his eyebrows. “I like you for liking me, Erica.”  
  
Erica didn’t reply, just grabbed a cup.  
  
“You and Isaac friends?” he asked awkwardly, taking another slurping sip. The girl at his side grinned, mirroring his actions.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They nodded in uneasy silence. Well, Stiles was uneasy, Erica just seemed amused.  
  
“Uh…” He winced, rubbing his head. Soon enough he would be twiddling his thumbs and tripping on a stray cup like at his Senior Prom. He had taken Athena Swezinker, who had thrown up all over his shoes before passing out. Athena’s father had accused him of assaulting her.  
  
He was pretty sure Erica wouldn’t throw up on his shoes, just laugh at how uncomfortable he was. The laughing was much worse. It was a cruel sort of thing, like a hyena.  
  
“Did you just call me a hyena?” She looked delighted. Stiles turtled a little, sighing.  
  
The world hated him.  
  
“So, Stiles.” He could hear the smile in her voice. He took another drink.  
  
“What’s up with you and Derek?”  
  
“Derek?” Stiles’ voice raised an octave. “Derek? I don’t know a Derek, who's Derek? Nothing is up with me and Derek. It’s so not up it’s down. Psht,  _Derek_. Derek!” He jumped, but the other boy wasn’t looking at him, but rather to the left of him.  
  
“Erica.”  
  
“Derek.” Erica batted her eyelashes, running a hand over his shoulder. Stiles smiled – contact was the most human thing he had seen from this girl. She leaned forward. “I’ll see you around, Stiles.”  
  
With that she was gone and he was left with Derek. He leaned back, avoiding his eyes and felt his hand slip. He fell forward a little, spilling a drink to his left.  
  
“Really?” He told himself, throwing his hands up and tossing the second cup away, grabbing another one in a surprisingly smooth motion. Stiles met Derek’s eyes, stifling the nerves jumping in his stomach.  
  
“My luck is horrible, you know that?”  
  
Derek raised his eyebrows, leaning against the table next to him lightly. “I’m beginning to see that.”  
  
Stiles sighed, glaring at the wall.  
  
Of course he did.  
  
*  
  
Derek had been at the party all of five minutes - Kate had already disappeared to God knows where - and of course,  _of freaking course_ , the first person he ran into was Stiles.  
  
Derek remembered he should probably say something because y'know, that's what human beings generally do but Stiles beat him to it. “Heeey… Derek.” He looked nervous as hell but to be honest, Derek was more curious about how Stiles had learned his name in the first place. “I’m just gonna skedaddle. Oh? Oh, what’s that Isaac? Yeah, Isaac is calling me!”  
  
At that moment, Derek caught Isaac's eye as he came up behind Stiles.  
  
“I’m calling you?” Isaac looked positively gleeful at the goings-on and oh God, Derek kinda had to feel bad for Stiles, the world was so clearly against him.  
  
“Ugh, just… Whatever. I’m going to go get drunk. Awesome party, Isaac! You’re doing well, my man.” Stiles clapped Isaac on the shoulders, only fuelling his amusement, no doubt. Derek noticed Stiles' cheeks reddening before he sprinted off. After watching him go, Isaac turned back to Derek and seriously, he could not have looked more pleased with himself if he tried.  
  
"What?" Derek scowled.  
  
"Nothing!" The blond said in a sing-song voice. Derek rolled his eyes before scanning the room. He saw Allison enter the room and less than ten seconds later, he saw Scott McCall barrelling towards her. He careened into some girl but was no less deterred and managed to make it to Allison in one piece. The ridiculous grins they were giving each other made Derek roll his eyes again.  _Just get back together already_.  
  
His eyes flitted back over to the girl Scott had bumped into and he saw her making her way determinedly towards Stiles. That's when he realised-- Oh shit, that's Erica.  _No, no, no, no, no_.  
  
He was about to intercept her when two hands grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him back. He turned around to glare at Isaac and now Boyd and they gave him twin Cheshire cat grins. He has the worst friends.  
  
" _What_ is she doing?" he got out through gritted teeth.  
  
"She just wants to talk to him, relaaaaax." Reminder to self; never trust Isaac ever again. He is actually evil.  
  
Boyd just smirked in that stupid deadpan way that frustrated Derek to no end. Another reminder to self; Don't trust Boyd either. He is also evil.  
  
"But  _why_  does she want to talk to him?" Derek pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
"She just thought it was weird that you mentioned him. You don't exactly notice people, Derek," Boyd said casually, as if that sentence didn't imply all sorts of things that were untrue.  
  
"Come on dude, it  _is_  kind of weird that you never met him before Wednesday. I've been friends with him since I was sixteen." Isaac still looked amused but he pretended he wasn't for Derek's sake. "Plus, you asked me about him and like Boyd said, you don't notice people." And now he was just back to openly finding this whole thing hilarious.  
  
Worst. Friends. Ever.  
  
*  
  
Derek suffered through watching Erica talk to Stiles for two-and-a-half painstaking minutes until he couldn't bear it any more. He tore himself away from Isaac and Boyd and made his way over to where Erica was no doubt terrorising Stiles.  
  
Stiles jumped when he saw him and called his name rather hysterically but Derek had his gazed locked on Erica.  
  
"Erica," he said evenly.  
  
"Derek." Erica played the innocent card immediately and fluttered her eyelashes at him. Brushing his shoulder gently and giving him the tiniest smirk, she said, "I'll see you around, Stiles," and sauntered off.  
  
Derek looked at Stiles, only to see him spill his drink.  
  
"Really?" He heard Stiles mutter to himself. He looked so beyond exasperated with himself; Derek felt the same pity he had before. Stiles chucked the cup and met Derek's eyes. He looked intimidated, as he had in the library, and it made Derek soften his own gaze slightly. Poor guy needed to catch a break.  
  
“My luck is horrible, you know that?”  
  
Derek moved to lean against the table next to Stiles, “I’m beginning to see that.”  
  
*  
  
Derek lost track of time while he talked to Stiles. And what's more, he actually found himself enjoying the other boy's company. Stiles was funny and though he had the shortest attention span known to man, he told every story with the same enthusiasm and exuberance as if it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened.  
  
And despite the fact that Derek was essentially watching Stiles get more and more wasted as he talked to him, he was finding it more amusing than annoying, like he would with most people.  
  
He hadn't even seen Kate since they came in and he realised he actually didn't miss her that much as long as he was with Stiles.  
  
Despite being wrapped in a conversation with Stiles, it didn't go unnoticed when he looked up, that Scott and Allison were staring at them in the poorest attempt of spying he had ever seen.  
  
His policy of ignoring Allison when she tried to embarrass him applied quite nicely here.  
  
*  
  
"They're so cute!" Allison squealed, leaning against Scott's shoulder.  
  
"I know!" Scott grinned but his brain was sort of short circuiting between trying to focus on Stiles and his obvious crush and the way Allison was so close he could smell her perfume.  
  
"Very," Lydia agreed, arriving on Allison's other side.  
  
"You realise Derek has a girlfriend?" All three jumped and turned around to see Erica Reyes standing behind them. They returned their gazes to Stiles and Derek and Scott nodded. "We know."  
  
"She's my sister," Allison added.  
  
Erica was silent a minute before grinning. "They  _are_  cute."  
  
"What are we all staring at?" Isaac stage whispered and Boyd snorted.  
  
"Stiles and Derek and their obvious attraction to one another," Erica said offhandedly, linking her fingers with Boyd's.  
  
Isaac was about to reply when Jackson arrived, followed by Danny. Jackson curled and an arm around Lydia's waist while Danny followed everyone else's gazes.  
  
"Aww look! Stilinski's flirting!" He sounded delighted by the proceedings.  
  
"Isn't it adorable?" Lydia asked.  
  
"Nothing involving Stiles could be adorable." Jackson scoffed. Lydia and Allison shared a look before just rolling their eyes.  
  
"Allison have you seen Derek? I've been looking for him everywhere?"  
  
At that moment, all eight of them turned around to block Kate's view. Allison jumped forward, seizing Kate's arm. "Um I think I saw him go outside. He said something about wanting fresh air." Allison immediately started dragging Kate towards the door. "I'll help you look for him."  
  
When she was nearly at the door, Allison looked back. She nodded at Scott and smiled at him in understanding. He smiled back, returning her nod.  
  
*  
  
Stiles was waving his arms around animatedly to explain something Derek couldn't even remember but he laughed anyway. Stiles’ stupid smile was stupidly infectious.  
  
Isaac strolled over then, stopping Stiles' mid-sentence. "Hey guys! Havin' fun? Listen Derek, you think maybe you could walk Stiles home?" Isaac was so bad at feigning casual.  
  
"His dorm's across campus. Scott would but he's with Allison and we don't want to interrupt them." He winked conspiratorially and Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Scott'll make sure Kate gets home okay and let's be real, Stiles has totally reached his limits. The dude needs like a gallon of water and a good night's sleep."  
  
Derek looked back over to where Stiles was sitting. He was staring at his cup intently, like he was wondering why there was no longer alcohol in it. He leaned so far forward to stare into the cup that he nearly fell off the seat. Isaac caught him quickly and righted him.  
  
...Okay, so maybe Derek had been too distracted by Stiles' smile to notice how drunk he was.  
  
He heaved a sigh and pushed himself up, holding a hand out Stiles. Satisfied, Isaac disappeared again. Stiles just stared at Derek's hand with this weird reverence and okay, so clearly Derek would be doing all the heavy lifting tonight.  
  
He tugged Stiles into a standing position and slung his arm over his shoulder. He pulled him over to the door, ignoring the smirk every single one of their friends shot their way.  
  
Getting Stiles down the stairs posed some difficulty, considering he could barely walk in a straight line. Miraculously, neither of them broke any bones on their way down.  
  
Once they were outside, Stiles practically wrapped himself around Derek like a koala. "What's with the cold? We live in  _California_!" Stiles lamented, trying to weasel his way into Derek's jacket. Derek sighed exasperatedly, forcing himself to keep pushing them forward.  
  
"Did you see Scott in there, man? God, he stared at Allison alllllll night. All he does is pine. He's such a piner, he's more pine than a pine tree." Stiles went off a tangent then that Derek couldn't keep up with no matter how hard he tried.  
  
"Smile Derek. Don't look so sour!" Stiles shoved him playfully and stumbled. Derek was absolutely certain if he wasn't holding Stiles up he would've face-planted the concrete. "Whoa heh heh. But anyway, Lydia and Allison always tell me; 'Someone loves your smile'. Wait no! That's not it! Someone is...someone could be..."  
  
Derek sighed again, "Someone could be falling in love with your smile?" he supplied.  
  
"Yes!" Stiles jumped, smacking Derek's shoulder. "That's it! You're so smart! But yeah, you should smile so someone can fall in love with it."  
  
For some reason, Derek didn't really feel like reminding Stiles that Kate already had.  
  
They reached Stiles' building. The stairs posed a problem, yet again, because by this point Stiles was practically asleep on Derek's shoulder. When they made it to the door of Scott and Stiles' dorm, Stiles flung his arms around Derek and hugged him tightly. Derek tensed and patted Stiles' back awkwardly for a minute. But then-  _oh fuck it_ , he wrapped his arms around Stiles and hugged back.  
  
Stiles pulled away after a minute grinning goofily. "Thanks for walking me home, Derek."  
  
It took him a second to get his key in the door but when he did, he promptly fell through it and landed in a heap on the floor.  
  
Derek just shook his head, grinning, "Goodnight Stiles."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's everybody! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Derek woke up the morning after the party with a slight headache, a definite hangover and still wearing the same clothes from the night before. He looked over to Boyd's side of the room and saw him half hanging off his bed and Erica taking up most of the room.  
  
He fumbled for his phone on his dresser and saw he had one new message. It was from Kate.  
  
"Hey, where'd you get to last night? Couldn't find you anywhere."  
  
He groaned and pulled the covers up over his head. He hadn't drank that much, he remembered perfectly what happened. He remembered Stiles. _I'm gonna need coffee if I'm going to think about this. Lots and lots of coffee._  
  
He forced himself to get up, cracking his back as he did. He changed out of last night's clothes and slipped out the door as quietly as he could so as not to wake Boyd and Erica. Erica was scary in the morning.  
  
He made his way across campus to the coffee shop hoping Isaac was working this morning. He always gave Derek the best hangover cures. Though since it was Isaac's party, he was probably passed out somewhere in his dorm.  
  
When he entered the coffee shop he noticed two things straight away. First; Isaac wasn't working but Scott was. Second; Stiles was sitting on the counter talking animatedly at Scott while the other boy worked.  
  
Derek couldn't even think about turning around and walking right out of the café because Stiles had already spotted him.  
  
"Hey Derek!" he called, "I heard I totally embarrassed myself in front of you last night." Stiles looked a little awkward like maybe he  _did_  feel embarrassed but for the most part he just seemed amused at himself.  
  
Derek mentally told himself to act casual like he wasn't currently having an inner dilemma about the boy in front of him and made his way over, leaning against the counter. "How's the hangover?"  
  
"Totally non-existent!"  
  
Scott snorted and started making Derek's coffee. "Isaac told me you'd probably be in here, he told me your order," Scott explained when he saw Derek watching him.  
  
"And Stiles is totally lying by the way. He's been throwing up since 5am."  
  
"Hey!" Stiles protested, "I'm fine now. I haven't thrown up in an hour, that's the longest yet."  
  
"Uh-huh," Scott said, shoving Stiles off the counter and subsequently into Derek.  
  
Derek's hands moved instantly to hover at Stiles waist in a vain attempt to catch him.  
  
Stiles flushed and turned to, Derek presumed, glare at Scott. "You're not supposed to sit on the counter! It's unhygienic!" Scott said defensively but Derek could see the smile he was fighting back and if Derek could see it then Stiles  _definitely_  could.  
  
Scott walked away then, moving to the coffee machine and leaving Stiles and Derek alone.  
  
"So um, thanks for looking out for me last night. I know you probably had better things to do than babysit me." Stiles' bravado from before seemed to have dissipated and all that was left behind was the awkwardness.  
  
"It's okay, it wasn't that bad," Derek said carefully, gauging the other boy's reaction.  
  
Stiles looked up, surprised. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah. I might've even had fun."

Stiles smiled and visibly relaxed but Scott returned before he could say anything. He handed Derek his coffee and gave Stiles a look, "Don't you have work?" he prompted.  
  
"Crap! Bye!" Stiles bolted from the shop and Scott just shook his head fondly.  
  
As soon as he was gone Derek started to get annoyed with himself again. He dropped into a seat at an empty table and took a long drink of his coffee. What was he thinking? Talking to Stiles like that. He was blurring the lines, being too open and honest. Derek was a guy that had his walls firmly set in place and only a few people are allowed to see behind them. Stiles was  _not_  one of those people.  
  
Well, he wasn't supposed to be.  
  
*  
  
The thing is; Derek had a case study he needed to do. So, whether he wanted to or not, that meant he had to spend a lot of time at the library. That also meant spending a lot of time with Stiles.  
  
It was about a week after the party when Derek was at the library, books spread out around him, taking notes when Stiles dropped into a seat across from him. He didn't say anything but he did offer a small smile when Derek looked up. And that was it.  
  
Stiles had a textbook with him and the entire time he sat with Derek he just...studied. Part of Derek wondered why Stiles didn't take one of the many other empty tables or why he didn't just stay at the front desk. But the other part of him told him it didn't matter. That the companionable silence was nice.  
  
*  
  
And suddenly, that became their routine. Derek studied and Stiles studied with him. Derek was usually more aware of Stiles' presence when Lydia was there too because he knew for a fact she was watching them and probably drawing all sorts of conclusions but he couldn't be bothered to care about it too much.  
  
After a week or so Stiles started talking to him. It started off a little tentative, like maybe he was afraid that if he made noise Derek would make him leave. But whenever Stiles noticed Derek sit back to take a break, he'd stop too and make idle conversation. This somehow turned into real conversations that Derek actually found himself wanting to participate in.  
  
Stiles interested him and when he got tired of trying to fight it, he allowed himself to find him interesting.  
  
*  
  
Derek met Kate one night for dinner and it was...well, it was weird.  
  
He was always a little on edge around her because she had such a big presence. She was like a hurricane and he was helpless against her. But it was something he admired in her.  
  
But this time, he just felt uncomfortable. And he was noticing things. Little things that he probably would've brushed off before were now bothering him. And he kept thinking;  _Stiles wouldn't do that_.  
  
Needless to say, he was getting really confused.  
  
*  
  
Derek flopped down on Isaac's couch and for a minute, he had the ridiculous thought that it was like he was lying down in a shrink's office.  
  
"What's wrong Der-bear?" Erica sighed. There was hardly any room on the couch but she made herself fit.  
  
"I don't understand anything."  
  
Her laugh rang out loud and clear making Derek groan. "Well, I could've told you that."  
  
"Is this about Stiles?" Isaac asked.  
  
"Yes." Derek didn't want to talk to them about this because he knew how they'd act but who else did he have? Calling Laura was out of the question and calling Peter was...actually a fairly comical idea.  
  
"Knew it," Boyd said coolly, ignoring Derek's glower.  
  
"He's decided he's my friend but I choose my friends, they don't choose me. And I never chose Stiles." He sounded like a petulant child and he knew it.  
  
"Derek, you're so weird," Erica laughed.  
  
"He's just cranky because he's not control of the situation and it's scaring the shit out of him," Boyd said.  
  
"What's wrong with being Stiles' friend anyway? He's  _awesome_!" Isaac clearly failed to see the problem.  
  
"But he's just- I have enough friends!" Okay that wasn't it but his feelings were really confusing and he needed someone to give him a reason to stop hanging around Stiles so that confusion would go away.  
  
"Uh it's not like we'll be offended if you get another friend, Derek," Erica said, bemused.  
  
Boyd gave him a pointed look. It at least meant he was being serious. "Derek, just accept the fact that someone enjoys your company. I know, it's a mystery to us too." Erica and Isaac snorted at that. "Seriously, stop sabotaging yourself. I don't know what your real reason for working yourself up is but I do know you like hanging out with him, whether you'll admit it or not."  
  
Why did Boyd have to be right all the time?  
  
*  
  
"So I have a question," Derek began one day, just over three weeks after the party.  
  
Stiles eyes bugged out in mock incredulity. " _You_  have a question? Are you, Derek Hale, actually engaging me, Stiles Stilinski, in conversation without my prompting?"  
  
Derek rolled his eyes but it was more fond than anything else. "How'd you know my name?"  
  
Stiles brow furrowed in confusion, "What are you talking about?"  
  
"At the party," Derek clarified, "You knew my name. But I never told you what it was."  
  
"Oh." Stiles looked like a deer caught in the headlights. And whatever acquaintanceship they'd developed over the weeks was irrelevant because it was still fun to make Stiles nervous.  
  
"Lydia saw you leave the library that first day," he said, recovering quickly. "She mentioned you. And it's not like I'd never heard of you before I just needed to put a face to the name."  
  
"Uh-huh." Part of him was disappointed that Stiles hadn't tried to do some snooping and find out about him but then Derek told that part of him to shut up because it didn't matter.  
  
Because he didn't care.  
  
Most of the time, anyway.  
  
*  
  
Derek had a giant paper to write and it was going to be the death of him. He'd been in the library for six hours and he'd barely started. Stiles hadn't even sat with him that day, sensing the tension.  
  
But then Derek heard someone clearing their throat and saw that Stiles was standing over him. "Closing time bro. Come on, let's go get some pizza because I'm guessing you haven't eaten since like, this morning and I'm never too hungry for pizza." Stiles grinned and started shutting some of the books Derek had strewn across the desk.  
  
Derek was too tired and hungry to disagree so he helped Stiles pack up his stuff and followed him out of the library.  
  
They ended up in some pizza place Derek had never noticed before but Stiles seemed to like it there. He didn't even need to look at the menu to figure out his order and it made Derek smile.  
  
"So what were you working on in the library?" Stiles asked once the waitress left with their order.  
  
"A soul-sucking paper that's trying to destroy my happiness," Derek smiled wryly. Stiles let out the same surprised laugh he always did whenever Derek said something sarcastic. Derek decided he liked that laugh the best out of all of Stiles' laughs. And Stiles had  _a lot_  of laughs.  
  
"Aww, please don't die, Derek. I've become quite fond of you," Stiles chuckled to himself, trying to make an airplane out of his napkin.  
  
Derek scoffed looking around for the waitress.  
  
He really was hungry, he felt weird, like there was something fluttering in his stomach.  
  
Wait.  
  
Oh crap.  
  
*

“Oh my God,” Stiles groaned, attempting to walk and rifle through his papers simultaneously. “I didn’t. I  _didn’t._ ” He was truly a dead man walking. He deciding to forget about his essay, which apparently he already  _did,_  in an attempt to calm his racing heart. It couldn’t be  _so_ bad that he forgot an essay he had been slaving over all night yesterday.

Stiles swung his backpack around to his front, sort of like a backwards turtle in his opinion, and shoved the papers inside carelessly. They weren’t that important, since they were obviously not what he was looking for. He could swear on his life that he had printed it out the other day. Screwed, he was so, so screwed.

Grimacing, he pushed the thoughts away and checked his watch. Well, now he was going to be late for class too if he didn’t pick up the pace. Sighing, he started up in a quick jog, teetering on the edge between actual running and mall walker. (That was what jogging was… right?) He swerved wildly, torso bending as he ducked away from someone. A someone particularly chiseled and slightly grumpy.

“Hey, Derek!” He threw a wave over his shoulder at the other boy, who was scowling down at his phone. Derek seemed to be pulled out of his daze, waving a hand. Stiles gaped a little. Did Derek just wave at him? Honest-to-God acknowledgement, Oh, he could swoon! He snickered at how even his  _inner voice_ was a sarcasm pro. He stopped, falling into step with his dark haired companion; he was already late anyway.

Stiles opened his mouth to start a conversation about something or another, mostly ranting about how his brain was horribly forgetful, Derek was holding something out to him.

“You forgot this yesterday, in the library…” he said gruffly, rubbing the back of his head. Was he… nervous?

He stared in wonder for about a half a second, before nearly jumping Derek, long arm flailing and finally locking around his shoulders. “Oh my God,  _dude!_ ” He thwacked Derek in the shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver, seriously, I could, like, kiss you right now.” Stiles was too caught up in his glee to think about how much of a confession he had actually just made. If they were being truthful, Stiles’ lips would be Derek’s any day of the week, not just at that moment. Though the feeling was intensified; what was it that Lydia always said? Winning is sexy?

“You win the key to life, my friend. Thanks!” he called, scrambling off before he could splutter more nonsense that he would inevitably mull over later in bed, giving  _himself_  secondhand embarrassment. And running into a trashcan while walking backwards to see if Derek would turn around first? That was high up on the nonsense list.  

It wasn’t until he was sitting in on a lecture that he realized this was the second time he had hugged Derek Hale, that said Derek Hale hugged him back, and that Derek didn’t turn around first (although, he might’ve, if it weren’t for the trashcan.)

He also realized that it was the fourth time he got butterflies.

*

Stiles and Derek had a thing.

Or at least, that’s what Stiles liked to believe. He would amble over from his desk, after being bored of off his mind made him restless, and plunk down across from Derek at his usual table. Derek would look up, half amused and half murderous looking (or was that just his face?), but didn’t comment. Eventually, Stiles started filling the silence with random facts he learned, stories about him and Scott, even what had been on TV the night before. It was nice, to have someone to talk to this way. Derek complimented him, let him speak as long as he liked and gradually started participating in their little conversations.

That day, though, he didn’t go over to Derek’s desk when he practically strut in, and, okay,  _who_ walks like that? It’s so  _distracting._ This was a library, where people study, not watch Derek’s ass. Even with said ass walking by, he stayed firmly planted at his desk, eyes flashing between his notes and his textbook, highlighting occasionally, or adding something extra to try and remember. The test that was coming up was huge for him and, contrary to popular belief, he actually  _did_ study.

All this studying, of course, was ruined when he jumped nearly a foot in the air and his chair toppled, much like the first time the duo had met. Derek leaned over the desk, smirking down at him. He glowered, letting his head fall back against the carpet.

“Tell Scott I’ve died and that he has to go clear my browser history, because I’m dead,” he moaned, slapping his hands over his eyes. He heard Derek snort overhead, casting a shadow over his face.

“Stop being so melodramatic,” he said, rolling his eyes, but there was no bite to it. Stiles took the offered hand, flipping his chair right side up and collapsing back into it, hand cradling his cheek. Derek eyed him and he gave him his most judgmental Stilinski eyes and pointedly ignoring the fact that they probably wouldn’t work because a) this was Derek and b) while he really respected it, the Stud muffin shirt wasn’t the most fear-eliciting garment.

“What’s wrong with you?” the other boy prodded gingerly, as if he didn’t really want to be asking, but felt an obligation to.

“Huge test. Gonna fail. Dead,” Stiles replied, too tired to form full sentences. Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing his notes and producing a pack of flash cards from his pocket.

“I took this class last year,” was all he said when he threw them down on the desk, not looking back.

Stiles bit his lip, hands running over the neat, blocky handwriting.

“Thanks.”  

*

Allison was staring at him.

No, really, Allison was flat out creepy  _staring_ at him as she brought a speared piece of chicken to her mouth. He cringed slightly, drawn into staring back and wondering if her eyes were burning because  _she was not blinking._ He tried a different tactic, pointedly letting his eyes roam everywhere but her face like people did in the movies.

It didn’t work.

“Uh, Allison—“

She leaned forward on her hand. “I’m trying to figure out if you know that I know that you have feelings for Derek and that’s why my staring is making you nervous.”

“W- _What_? I don’t have feelings for  _Derek!_ And if I did they would be total bro-feelings, completely platonic, like how I feel for Scott,” Stiles spluttered, attempting to dry to water that had nearly rocketed from his mouth. Allison gave him a look.

“What? I’m completely serious!” It would almost be convincing if his voice didn’t raise half an octave – and seriously, why did it keep doing that when he was nervous? Allison just gave him a sly look over her fork, smiling.

“Oh, don’t look at me that way, I know you still have a thing for Scott!” he blurted accusingly in an attempt to get the spotlight off of him. Allison blushed, before shrugging nonchalantly. Stiles’ mouth curved the teensiest bit.

“Well, look who isn’t protesting about their feelings.”

She sniffed and he grinned, but softened his tone. “You two were awesome together and you know it.”

Allison chewed deliberately on the last of her meal before shooting him a sweet smile. “I know.”

“Do you me to walk you back to your dorm?”

She contemplated for a moment. “Yeah, actually! I still have to return your sweatshirt.”

“But not Scott’s.” He wiggled his eyebrows and he shoved him through his snickers, righting himself and trailing after her. They walked in a steady sort of silence, sometimes trading stories, or grinning about something Lydia and Jackson got into.

Stiles was retelling a truly epic tale about one of his video game marathons to Allison, who was digging around in her purse for something. He snorted, holding out Allison’s key.

“Where did you…?”

“You dropped it,” he chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice, with your ninja powers and such.”

He smiled, watching Allison attempt to jimmy the key into the lock on her dorm room. She finally got it open with a small, triumphant noise, shoving her weight against it.

“The door doesn’t like Argents.”

His grin widened. “I can tell.” He went in first, hefting her backpack over his shoulder, before letting out a surprised noise and instinctively covering his eyes, resisting the urge to flee immediately. Instead, he dropped Allison’s bag on the floor, content to let his friend do all the heavy yelling while he tried to find brain bleach. He did  _not_ need to see that much of Kate Argent’s bare skin, or any of her complicated tongue moves.

Deciding that he’d be better off gone, he groped blindly for the door, making little whimpering noises that just sounded like a constant stream of “Nyaaaaah.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you two! Kate! I  _told you_ Stiles was coming over!”

“Stiles is never coming over  _ever_ again, thank you!” he interjected, still trying to find the doorknob. He cheered as his hand caught and he wrenched the door open and slammed it shut in a smooth, consecutive motion, before letting himself take his hand away. From outside, he could hear Allison’s frustrated tones through the thin wood.

Stiles shivered, before setting off in the opposite direction, intent on driving straight to his dorm and burying himself in studies until he couldn’t even think about what just happened. It wasn’t gross, so much as it was  _Derek._ Seriously, the guy was like a rock and Kate Argent was scary as fuck. It was like watching two Lions molest each other.

Okay, that was another image he didn’t need in his head. Now, he could never watch ‘The Lion King’ again.

The door swung open again and he turned, already smiling for Allison’s sake, except it wasn’t Allison, but Derek, who was still shirtless. Stiles kept his gaze on his eyes – they were pretty eyes, so it wasn’t too hard – pointedly ignoring what were probably a set of killer abs. Derek, at least, had  enough of a conscience to at least look semi-sheepish.

“Uh, Sorry, for that.” Derek waved a hand. Stiles just flopped his arms around and let Derek take it as he would, because  _no,_ he would  _not_ let Derek Hale dick around with his feelings.

Not that there were any feels to dick around with anyway.

*

Erica strode into the library purposefully one afternoon, hair flaring out behind her. Her lips twisted into a smile that could only be described as predatory. She leaned over the desk, ignoring any and all personal boundaries most people set for themselves.

“Hi, Stiles,” she greeted flintily, batting her eyelashes. Wasn’t she dating Boyd or something? Stiles leaned back, careful with the chair. He nearly smiled in triumph when it didn’t topple. He was the chair-sensei now. Chair-master. Champion of Chair-fu.

“Er, hi… Erica.”

Her smile widened. “You remember me. Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me find a book?”

This he could handle. Stiles bobbed his head obligingly. “Do you have a title or an author?”

The blonde shook her head. “No, but I have a summary, of sorts.”

He made a ‘go on’ gesture when she just stood there, grinning like the cat who caught the hummingbird. Or was it canary? Did cats even eat birds? Erica tilted her head, as though she were thinking.

“Well, it’s about this guy, who really, really likes this other guy,” Erica stared at him meaningfully and he gulped. Was Derek telling them stuff? He didn’t  _like_ him, like him (Oh, Lord, he had been downgraded to elementary crush-terms), he just enjoyed company. “Anyway, this guy is taken by this other girl, who is a total bitch, by the way, you’d hate her,” She sneered a little, rolling her eyes at the so-called “fictional character.” “But all his friends keep telling him and telling him that she’s totally not the one for him, even though they don’t really, because they’re his friends, they have to at least  _mildly_ support him.”

Stiles snorted, but didn’t say anything, letting Erica continue. Maybe, he could just let her sit there and rant all day about this “book.”

“Well, we— _they_ all think that that guy, who is dating the other girl, deserves someone better,” Her gaze softened a little; it was strange, to see the fondness in her face, feel it in her voice, when she was usually so… brash. Not that that was a bad thing, it was one of the reasons he liked her. If she didn’t scare him so much because she looked at him like he was a deer that she was bringing home for the family, they could probably be really good friends. “And they think that someone better is the guy, who the story is about, who really,  _really_ likes this guy. I mean, it’s obvious, from how he fumbles around him, and laughs nervously, and stutters. It’s kind of cute.”

Stiles could feel his ears burning, even though it was possible that Erica was just trying to rile him up, rather than actually knowing what was going on. Hell,  _he_ didn’t even know what was going on.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “You can probably find that in half the romance novels on sale today.”

Erica just looked exasperated at that answer, before stalking off and muttering about boys and feelings and leaving behind a very confused Stiles.

*

“Dude?” Scott asked as they were lying in bed that night.

He continued staring up at the ceiling, hands folded over his stomach. “Yeah?”

Scott, apparently, had a thing for late night talks. Said something about how they gave him clarity of the mind.

“Do you like Derek?”

Stiles groaned. Really, it was like he and Allison were the same person. “Hear me out, hear me out! I was just wondering, okay? I mean, you guys are sort of friends now, and that’s totally cool and everything, in fact I’m super happy for you! I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He couldn’t keep the fond smile from overtaking his face as he threw a pillow across the room. “You’re a real sap, you know that?”

Scott grinned, the pillow vaulting back a moment later. “Yeah, I know.”

Stiles waited until he was almost sure that Scott was sleeping to murmur a quiet, “I’m not sure,” into the darkness.

*

 


	4. Chapter 4

“You do know that you can’t bowl, right?”

Scott gave him a look. Stiles grinned, waiting for the statement to be recognized as fact. Because that’s what it was. The last time he and Scott had gone bowling, Stiles got a concussion from a bowling ball to the face. It wasn’t pretty.

“I know! But Allison invited me.  _Allison_ invited  _me._ ”

Oh, God, he was doing the puppy thing again. Stiles groaned. “And you want me to go?  _Why_?”

“So I don’t mess things up again! Please, Stiles?”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “I hope you know that I was traumatized last time.”

Scott, apparently, took this as his acceptance and beamed. “You’re the best, man!”

“Don’t I know it,” he grumbled to himself, cursing the day that he ever got sucked in by Scott. This best friend thing seemed highly unfair from his vantage point.

“You can even invite someone! Maybe, Derek?” his companion prompted, mouth lilting up in a way that was just the tiniest bit smug. Stiles stuck his tongue out.

“I knew telling you was a bad idea!”

“I’m just being supportive!”

“Whatever!” he called over his shoulder, curving around towards the library. Scott’s laughter echoed after him. He sighed, taking a small comfort in the familiar swish of the library door, dropping into his seat behind the desk. Invite Derek?  _Derek._ Derek Derek. Derek Hale Derek. He mulled over the thought for a moment, almost completely missing the door opening.

Speak of the devil.

Internally, Stiles flailed a little, still pacing back and forth between his options. Invite Derek, maybe spend more time with Derek. Don’t invite Derek, don’t spend time with Derek and be stuck alone with Scott and Allison.

He completely forgot he would be stuck alone with Scott and Allison.

“Oh damn,” he mumbled to himself, running a hand over his face. Standing, he wobbled over to where Derek was sitting. The other boy didn’t even look up, and Stiles let himself stare, if only for a moment. It was so annoying how Derek’s personality, even though incredibly dour at times, had made him more attractive. Stupid Derek.

“Stop hovering,” Derek called, still scrawling intently. He cleared his throat, waiting. Eventually, Derek looked up, exasperation written over his face. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Bowling!” Stiles blurted. That was it, that was the best he could come up with. He stomped down on the urge to outline the history of bowling because he was nervous and hell, what was wrong with him, he could do this. He and Derek were friends, it wasn’t weird. He had invited him to dinner that one time and everything. Still, his mind had made it its duty to keep reminding him of what Scott had said earlier.

_“You don’t know?”_

_“You heard that?”_

_Scott waited patiently and Stiles sighed._

_“Fine, I sort of know. Things are confusing for me.”_

_“So…” Scott had the largest grin in the word on. He glared as it widened. “You like him.”_

_“I don’t—“_

_“You like him!”_

“Bowling?” Derek’s voice, slightly amused, snapped him out of his flashback. He coughed.

“Uh, yeah… Bowling. Where you have those balls with the three holes in them,” Stiles’ cheeks burned. Someone shut him up. Or shoot him, put him out of his misery altogether. “That are probably really gross and disease ridden because a lot of people don’t wash their hands and that’s kind of gross, so um. Yeah. Bowling. Do you want to go with me?” He paused. That sounded like a date. He couldn’t let Derek think he was asking him out! “Oh my God, I meant, like, with me and Scott. Like, like, a bro-thing. Guy’s evening… thing.”

A  _guy’s evening thing._ What was wrong with him?

Derek gave him what was probably a pitying look and nodded. “Sure. Can I invite other people, too?”

 _Ew, not Kate,_ he thought to himself, shuddering a little, but instead said, “Invite whoever!” And, to top it all off, he shot Derek  _finger guns._ Honest-to-God finger guns. Mustering up the last shreds of his dignity, he sat across from him, letting a bit of tension flow out of his shoulders. Derek said yes. Everything was okay.

And he thought things couldn’t be worse than high school.

Stiles had jinxed himself, hadn’t he?

*

Scott sat down, pulling on his bowling shoes and waiting for the others.

Isaac sat down next to him, watching Derek and Stiles, who were talking amicably with Kate distracted.

“We need an odd number of people,” Erica calculated, dropping into the seat next to Isaac.

“Why?” Scott shot her a confused look and she turned to him, exasperated, motioning to the pair. Stiles was scowling down at his shoes, which refused to stay tied. Derek rolled his eyes, tugging the other boy’s feet into his lap and tying them expertly in tight, precise movements.

“Because—“ She broke off in a small cooing noise and Scott grinned at the way Stiles flushed, the color staining the tips of his cheekbones as his mouth hung open. “Those two are cute.” The blonde shook her head, a mass of pale curls flying around her. “Because if we do that, we can get them to be paired up. And you have to admit, the both of them  _are_ really competitive. It would make sense.”

“It would make sense if we want to lose,” Isaac remarked. “And why do we need an odd number? Wouldn’t it be better if it were even so they would be pushed together?”

She pursed her lips for a moment. “The problem is that he invited  _Kate,_ so we have to… work around her. And the easiest way to do that is to put the three of them together. Therefore, someone needs to take a fall.”

“I will!” Maybe it would save him a little embarrassment in front of Allison.

“You can’t, because then Allison would spend the entire time taking care of you and that would just leave us with an even number again!”

“She would take care of me?” Scott beamed at the thought. Isaac and Erica shot him a look and he quieted. The smile didn’t disappear, though.

“Scott, focus. It can be me, Boyd, or Isaac. That way, the two that are left can pair up, we can suggest that Stiles go with Kate and Derek, and all will be well!” She clapped her hands together.

“Me and Stiles were going to pair up anyway,” Isaac shrugged, standing and shooting them a sharp smile. Erica and Scott watched as Isaac went over to talk to Stiles, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. Stiles was nodding along. Derek, on the other hand, looked slightly confused and a little annoyed at the interruption. The blonde snickered to herself quietly. The pair watching them leaned in close, catching a few words here and there.

“…Go get it.” With that, Isaac smiled, trotting off to where the alley had the bowling balls lined up on a rack. He looked as though he were contemplating. Scott and Erica stifled a laugh as he went crashing, seemingly have fallen over where the floor raised a bit. They jumped up, “racing” over.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, concerned. Isaac winced, letting Scott pull his arm over his shoulders.

“I think I  _actually_ sprained my ankle,” he hissed. “Talk about taking one for the team.”

Scott gave him a worried look, but he brushed him off. “Just a sprain.” He hobbled over to the plastic seats with Erica and Scott’s help. Boyd, who had just arrived, raised an eyebrow.

“What happened to you?”

“I fell.”

They all turned when Stiles groaned. “Man, I was totally gonna win with Isaac!”

Isaac grinned. “Hey, Stiles? Why don’t you just go with Derek?”

He gave them a helpless look, glancing around. “But… devil’s spawn!”

“Do you want to mess up my first date with Allison, bro?” Scott gave him the biggest eyes he could. Stiles glared at him, scowling.

“I hate all of you.”

They gave a small high five as Stiles stalked off to where Derek was standing with Kate.

Mission Accomplished.

 *

“Hey, Derek?”

Stiles nearly cringed at the way Kate was looking at him. Scary chick. Derek raised his eyebrows.

“Isaac almost died, so apparently, I’ve been assigned to you guys.”

“Why?” Kate gave him a faulty smile that was anything but nice. It wasn’t even like Erica’s predatory ones, with an undertone of fondness. He could see the headlines now, “Boy murdered in bowling alley by friend’s psycho girlfriend.”

“ _Because,”_ he attempted to channel all his inner Lydia Martin. “Allison invited Scott and I can’t ruin that.” She visibly bristled and his eyes widened. Dammit, she hated them. At least he knew that he had the okay to tackle her anytime she came within ten feet now, unlike last time, where Scott ended up heartbroken on his couch and he couldn’t do a thing about it. “And Boyd and Erica are… Well.” He motioned over to where they were locked in a… particularly passionate embrace.

“Oh my God, Boyd stop taking off her shirt!” Stiles hollered, before turning back to the problem at hand. Derek snorted and Kate shot him a hard look. One that he ignored.

Point for Team Stiles.

“Anyway, I’m going to be here, unless you want me gone and I can go hang out with Isaac, the broken man.”  

Derek shrugged. “You can stay.”

Unable to resist, he gave Kate a smug smirk when Derek turned around, grabbing a bowling ball. Kate merely fumed, walking up to the plate and curling her arm back. She got a strike. Stiles just continued to smile, fumbling the ball a little. He felt Derek come up behind him.

“You do know how to bowl, right?”

He winced. He was no Scott, but he wasn’t a Jackson either. He trailed his eyes back over to Kate.

“Sort of.”

If he leaned back a little into Derek, as he ran through the motions for him, who would know, right?

It was so on, Argent.

*

After the rounds, Stiles hightailed it out of there before Kate could cut him open, because, if they were honest, both of them still scared him.

He grabbed Isaac, helping him walk, much to the other boy’s amusement. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m almost completely sure that Kate hates me. So, I’m hiding.”

Isaac shrugged. “She hates everyone, don’t take it personal.” He patted Stiles on the shoulder.

“Oh, no, man. She  _really_ hates me. She’s like, the wife, and I’m the hoe she caught sleeping with her husband.” Okay, and really, he needed better analogies, this was getting pathetic. The curly haired boy raised his eyebrows.

“You’re Derek’s dirty mistress,” he summarized. Stiles couldn’t even be embarrassed, laughing agreeably.

“I think so.”

Isaac smiled at him slyly. “Everyone likes the mistresses better anyway.”

He grinned.

*

She was giving him a serial killer smile.

Kate Argent was giving him, Stiles Stilinski, a serial killer smile. He whimpered internally.

Somehow, everyone had ended up in a greasy diner, smashed into a small booth. Scott had basically crowded him into the table against Derek’s shoulder, who just scooted aside obligingly. He dug his teeth into his burger, chewing violently and slumping his shoulders in an attempt to not look at her.

“Dude, Kate is—“ But Scott wasn’t listening, just staring wistfully at Allison across the table. He sighed, cramming curly fries into his mouth. He jolted when something poked him in the ribs.

“What the hell?”

“You’re not talking.” The intensity of Derek’s eyes had always been slightly unnerving, but now the full power of them was aimed directly on his face. He found his own eyes glued to the other boy’s, freezing mid-chew. “Stop not talking, it’s weird.”

“’m ea’ing,” he replied, shoving more food into his mouth. He swallowed forcefully.

“And now you’re not.”

Stiles peered around him at Kate, who looked like she was planning the best way to split him open.

“…And now I’m not.” He couldn’t help but smile.

Winning, he was so, so winning.

*

It all started off innocently enough. Derek was talking to Stiles while everyone else checked in and out of the conversation every few minutes.

“Hey, why weren’t you at the library today?” Stiles asked, picking at the remains of his food.

“I ran late at work. A car was brought in this morning that was pretty much falling apart. Had to work double time.”

“You’re a mechanic?” Scott piped up from beside Stiles, looking thoroughly impressed. Derek caught the way Stiles gaped at him and he allowed himself to feel the teeniest bit smug. Of course, then it all went to shit.

Kate scoffed, catching everyone’s attention. “I don’t know why you bother working at that place, it’s not like you need the money.” She gave him a pointed look that she usually reserved for when she was pissed at him. Wait,  _was_ she pissed at him?

Normally, he’d just get snappy right back; they were a stubborn pair and even though he was always the one who caved first, he still gave as good as he got.

But not about this. Kate  _knew_ how uncomfortable he got when talking about this. Why would she even bring it up? He could’ve started a fight, it would’ve been so easy, but that topic was strictly off limits for him and he’d be damned if he was going to deal with it now.

Instead, he just shrank away and stopped talking. Isaac and Boyd gave him sympathetic smiles. Allison looked annoyed at her sister and Erica looked ready for a cat fight – Jesus, that girl had a temper – Stiles and Scott just looked confused. Stiles tried, in vain, to carry on the conversation, but Derek didn’t feel like talking any more.

Throughout the rest of the night, he saw Stiles looking at him more than once and he also noticed Kate getting more and more huffy. He tried his best to ignore it all though, he just wanted to go home and sleep and forget.

*

When it was  _finally_ time to leave, Derek decided he couldn’t stand the thought of staying in the car with Kate for twenty minutes.

He pulled Allison off to the side, “Do you think you and Scott could bring Kate home?”

Allison frowned, touching his arm gently. “Sure, but do you really want to be alone?”

“I’ll be fine.”

She looked like she didn’t believe him but nodded nonetheless. She turned back to the group, “Kate c’mon, you’re coming with me and Scott.”

Scott’s eyes widened in terror and Kate’s narrowed in aggravation, but Derek couldn’t even be bothered to care right now. He was angry with her, and honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised. She dredged up old wounds he never wanted to be reminded of.

Kate stalked off with her sister and Scott, huffing and giving Derek a look that said they’d be having a discussion about this later. Stiles meandered over to him after tossing his keys off to Scott. “Hey, do you think I could maybe catch a ride with you?”

Derek looked at him for a minute, trying to figure out Stiles’ angle. But then he remembered this was Stiles he was dealing with. Stiles, who could probably see Derek was off and just wanted to make sure he was okay. It was strange how they’d barely known each other for two months and he already felt so much more at ease with Stiles around.

Stiles smiled and shrugged a little awkwardly, but stood his ground. “What d’you say? Does super-awesome-fun time with Stiles sound like a good way to end the night?”

That broke him; he laughed and tugged on the back of the other boy’s jacket.

“Come on then,” he said, rolling his eyes fondly.

*

“Can I ask you a question?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles continued with some trepidation.

“What did Kate mean in the diner? When she said that thing about you not needing the money?”

Derek was silent for a while, he was hoping Stiles would’ve been too confused by Derek’s change of mood to have picked up on that, but of course he had. Stiles noticed everything.

“You don’t have to tell me!” he assured when he didn’t think Derek was going to answer.

Derek debated it for a few more moments until he sighed and gave in. Stiles wouldn’t say anything to anyone and Derek trusted him enough to believe he wouldn’t treat him any different after he found out.

“My family died when I was sixteen.”

The silence hung in the car was suffocating, so Derek kept talking. “There was a fire at my house. My sister, Laura, and I were at school… Our Uncle Peter had left to pick us up… No one else made it out.”

“Derek…  _I’m so sorry._ ” The way Stiles looked at him, it wasn’t with pity. Of course, he looked sorry about the situation, maybe even sorry he brought it up, but more than that, he looked like he understood.

“It’s okay.” Derek smiled briefly, if only to reassure the other boy. “We got insurance payouts for all eleven of my family members, but we could never really make ourselves spend it… I mean, yeah it’s a lot of money, but the only reason we even have it is because we don’t have a family. It seems like a pretty shitty trade off to me.”

Stiles nodded, his face for once not betraying any of his emotions. Derek kept his eyes trained on the road because every time he looked over at Stiles his throat felt tight again.

“Kate doesn’t really understand, she thinks we’re crazy not to spend it.” Derek could’ve sworn he saw Stiles’ jaw clench, but since he wasn’t looking directly at him he couldn’t tell.

“I mean obviously we’ve spent  _some_ of it. We used it to buy back our old house when we moved back to Beacon Hills and it’s paying for college, but other than that we all have our own jobs to keep us busy.”

Stiles nodded and was quiet a moment before his head shot up. “Wait, Beacon Hills?”

Derek smiled to himself, glad for the change in topic. He’d also be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered how long it’d take for Stiles to figure this out. Stiles himself had never said where he was from, but Derek knew for a fact that Isaac had gone to school with everyone from his other group of friends. And that included Stiles.

“My family lived there for years. We moved to New York when I was a baby. And Laura, Peter, and I moved back the summer before my freshman year of college.”

“Huh.” Stiles looked at Derek then with a puzzled expression. “Dude, how the hell did we not meet each other before a few weeks ago?”

Derek chuckled. “Guess we just kept missing each other.”

“I guess so.”

Derek saw the smile Stiles gave him from the corner of his eye. There was something there, hidden in his eyes, but Derek didn’t have the brain capacity to work out what it was right now.

Instead, he just let them settle into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive home.

*

Derek was finally lying in bed after having the most exhausting argument with Kate.

It had gotten to the point where he just agreed with her and apologized because he was too tired to keep yelling. That was usually how it went; they’d scream at each other for so long that Derek would just give up so he could go to sleep and forget it happened. Sure, that meant that maybe not all his apologies were sincere, but he always wanted to make up in the end, so he didn’t have a moral dilemma over it.

He sunk into his pillows closing his eyes briefly. When they fluttered open again, they fell on his phone sitting on his bedside table. After a moment’s deliberation he reached over and picked it up.

He typed a quick message to Stiles, thanking him and apologizing for what’d happened with Kate. When his phone buzzed a minute later, he couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. When he looked up Boyd was staring at him with a knowing look. Derek glowered at him before grumbling a, “Shut up.”

That made Boyd grin.

Derek was pretty proud of the fact that his pillow managed to hit him square in the face.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Derek had been sitting in the coffee shop about twenty minutes when Stiles walked in, trailed by Allison. He was too caught up in his conversation with her to notice Derek tucked away in the corner - not to mention the fact that he was bounding towards the counter like a man on a mission.

Allison shook her head affectionately as Stiles hopped up onto the counter and yelled for Scott to come out of the back room. Derek’s focus slowly drifted from his assignment to the conversation occurring a few feet away.

“It’s okay if you can’t come, it’s not really gonna be a big deal. Just a group of us hanging out, not too different from what we do  _every_ Saturday night.” Allison laughed, but it sounded uneasy. That’s when Derek remembered - her birthday. He'd witnessed the minor freak-out she’d had that morning about whether or not she should invite Scott.

Scott wasn’t fairing much better than her though. “No!” he said quickly and Stiles snorted. Scott cleared his throat. “I-I mean, I’d love to come… I mean,  _we both would_! Right Stiles?” Scott elbowed Stiles sharply in the ribs and shot him a pained look.

Stiles nodded obligingly. “Of course we would. We’ll see you Saturday, Allison.”

“Great! See you then!” Allison practically skipped out the door, making Derek roll his eyes fondly. Her happiness was infectious.

As soon as Allison was out of earshot, Stiles doubled over laughing. “Oh my God. Dude! It’s been like four years. Stop acting like a 12-year-old school girl around her.”

Scott grumbled something unintelligible, but then caught sight of Derek and grinned mischievously. It was at that moment Derek realized his legs had carried him of their own accord to the counter and he hadn’t even noticed.

He needed another coffee anyway.

Stiles, however, had a completely different reaction to seeing Derek coming towards them. He flailed, managing to fall in a heap off the counter—this seemed to be a reoccurring theme with the two of them—before Derek could even think to catch him.

He could’ve sworn he heard Scott mutter something like, “Speaking of acting like a 12-year-old school girl,” under his breath, but he couldn’t be sure. When he looked up the other boy was looking at him innocently.

“Another coffee, Derek?”

“Uh… yeah, thanks.”

Scott busied himself with the coffee machine while Stiles finally managed to right himself and resumed sitting on the counter.

“So, you’re going to Allison’s thing?” Derek asked, clearing his throat.

Stiles startled, “Hmm? Oh yeah! Definitely! Are you?”

Derek didn’t allow himself to believe that Stiles sounded hopeful.

For some reason, unbeknownst to himself, Derek decided now was the time to act aloof and like he didn’t care. He schooled his expression and nodded slightly. “I guess I might show up. Maybe. You know, I’m really busy.”

Stiles’ face fell and Derek wanted to slam his head on the counter.  _Idiot_ , he thought to himself.

He found himself back-pedaling. Fast. “But I can cancel!” Dear God, he sounded like Scott. “Uh, what I meant was… Allison’s like my sister. So, I should probably show up.”

“ _Really_?”

Okay, he wasn’t imagining it now. Stiles looked decidedly more excited than he had before.

“Yeah. It’s no big deal,” he answered, trying to retain some of his former dignity by feigning nonchalance.

Stiles, of course, completely disregarded Derek’s attempts to play it cool by hopping off the counter and flinging his arms around Derek. Derek froze – the hugs were also becoming a common theme with them—but after a second he hugged back, enjoying the warmth for just a minute.

At the sound of Scott clearing his throat, he pulled back. Though the faint blush on Stiles’ cheeks didn’t go unnoticed.

“Your coffee, Derek.” Scott said amusedly.

Derek took the cup and handed over the money, pointedly ignoring the look Scott was giving him. He was about to take a drink when he saw the little foam hearts Scott had drawn in his coffee. He looked up to glare at him, but the other boy was merely grinning at him with barely contained laughter.

Derek’s life was the worst. It really was.

*

Stiles hopped back up onto the counter, grinning over at Scott. He tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks, pointedly looking opposite of Derek – who was unfairly attractive, and his personality hadn’t dulled it in the slightest. (Not that it would’ve, Stiles found everything about him annoyingly compelling. It was like  _disease._ Mental mono, except it wasn’t their lips that were touching, but their few inches of common ground).  

“Scott, my man,” Scott gave him a long suffering smile. “Hit me up with my morning buzz.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to inspect those weird syrup pumps. He reached for one, nearly splattering chocolate around before large hands were grabbing his own and his best friend was giving Derek a grateful nod.

Stiles zeroed in on their conjoined hands, before pulling away like he had been burned. Derek’s eyebrows drew together and he wondered idly if someday he’d be able to understand the other’s intense and extensive brow language. His face closed off the slightest bit – Stiles could visibly see the walls going up, and bit back the mournful sigh. Scott swivelled his head between the two, before sticking his hand out to Stiles, holding his coffee.

“Thanks, man. You do know how I operate.” He grinned and looked around the shop until he found where Derek was obviously sitting – books stacked neatly, leather jacket thrown over the chair. He sat, throwing his feet up on the desk.

“Tell me when you come up behind me, Derek, or I swear to God, your stuff is flying everywhere,” he called, knowing the shop is empty enough for him to hear. An answering laugh resonated behind him, mixing with Derek’s.

“Hi, Erica. How are you this morning?” he asked without looking away from the window. He could hear the girl dragging a chair up next to the table.

“I’m good, thank you,” she smirked, tone mischievous and he groaned to himself internally.

“You’re looking very… Lioness-like, today…” Stiles trailed off awkwardly. Erica snorted and Derek sat down, looking huffy.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her flatly.

“Basking in the glow of my discomfort!” Stiles chirped, shooting her what he hoped was a pleasant smile. Derek scowled, opening his laptop. She leaned in close enough to whisper, “Don’t mind him, he’s just the jealous type.”

His stomach fluttered a little at the thought of Derek being the jealous type over  _him._

This was not going to end up good for him.

*

“Dude, stop freaking out.” Stiles groaned, holding Scott’s inhaler out just in case.

“But what if she doesn’t really want me there, Stiles?! What if she just invited me out of pity?” His breathing quickened and he reached out to pat his friend on the back.

“It’ll be fine. She obviously wants you there, I want to be there. And if worst comes to worst, we can just leave to go get curly fries and take Isaac as hostage.” It got him a laugh. They adjusted each other’s collars, grabbed their wallets. When they arrived there were about twelve people and a karaoke machine in the corner.

Stiles knew that, at one point of the evening, he would end up with one of the mics in hand. Instead of starting the evening off that way, he made a beeline for Jackson and Lydia, catching them up in conversation.

“She invited Kate again. It’s gross,” Lydia rolled her eyes and he looked over to see Derek and Kate sitting together. It made his stomach churn. Annoyed, he flipped the light switch and headed over to grab himself a beer.

It was going to be a long night.

*

“Dereeeeeeek!” Stiles hollered into the microphone about two hours into the party, head spinning a little in the lights. “Get up here!” He spotted him in the corner of the room. Was he drunk? Absolutely not. Tipsy? Who wouldn’t be? Derek just gave him a look and shook his head.

“Stop being a party killer, bro! That’s a horrible thing to do to me! I thought we were friennnnnnds! I bet you secretly hate me!” He dragged out his words in a falsetto, waiting for Boyd to choose another song. Derek just rolled his eyes, so he snorted and pointed at Scott.

“Scott! You know the drill!” His best friend didn’t look any less exasperated with his antics, but obliged, giving Isaac a small farewell and standing. Boyd tossed him a microphone.

“Romantic love ballad part two?” Stiles prompted, grinning. Scott sighed.

“Romantic love ballad part two.” 

The Romantic Love Ballad was a ploy of theirs before Allison and Scott had gotten together. The boy had put on a suit and tie and carried a boom box around so that he could sing her a corny love song. Stiles was his back up. Unfortunately, it only led to her laughing hysterically over the both of them and Scott had run off before telling her he wanted to be with her.

They were very oblivious people.

That was exactly how they ended up here, singing alternating parts to “Let’s Get It On,” off key and rolling their hips in random directions, much to the amusement of their audience. At one point, they were just mouthing things and doing the Egyptian walk. Allison loved it, though. He practically fell off the stage, stumbling out blindly towards someone he knew.

A hand jumped out to steady him. He followed it up to Isaac’s face; a face that was laughing openly at him.

“Dude, that was awesome. You should really go up and try it.”

“I’m afraid I’m not so lacking in shame.” the blond replied, lip quirked.

“If you were, you would be up there. Or working at the library. A lot of good looking people wander in, I’ll let you know.”  

“Like Derek?”

He was about to agree, before Derek slid up behind Isaac looking amused.

“Nope, nope, not at  _all.”_

Isaac gave him a knowing look, turning around slightly, before steering him to the couch. They get into a conversation about how hard it is to be a librarian, how shelving makes his head spin. Derek got up around the middle and Stiles followed him with his eyes, watching him trail Kate.

“You should tell him,” Isaac intoned, leaning back against the cushions.

“There’s nothing to tell.” His voice sounded more saddened than he meant for it to be.

*

Derek didn’t think it was possible to have fun watching slightly tipsy 20-year-olds butcher the classics and call it karaoke, but he had to admit, Allison’s party – if it could even be called that – was entertaining. Even more surprising, he’d come to the conclusion that he could hold a conversation with all of them; not just Stiles, Isaac, and Allison – though they were his favorites.

He was in the middle of a conversation with Stiles and Isaac where Stiles was explaining the perils of being a librarian when he saw Kate slip out onto the balcony.

After a glance at the two boys chattering, he got up to follow her out.

“Everything okay?” Stiles asked, looking up at him from his seat on the floor.

Derek didn’t know if it was, but he nodded nonetheless, “Yeah, I’m just gonna check on Kate.”

Stiles nodded in acceptance and returned his focus to Isaac.

When Derek reached the balcony, Kate was standing with her back to him and her arms folded.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, a little unsure.

When she turned around, she hit him with a pathetic excuse for a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Oh, crap. She was upset about something. “No, really, what is it?” His voice softened as he tried to unfold her arms so he could draw her in.

She sighed meeting his gaze. “I just miss you.”

Derek frowned in confusion; a vulnerable Kate was not something he was used to seeing. “What are you talking about? I’m right here. I’m always right here.”

Her expression hardened then, “No. You  _were_  always here. Now, you’re always with Stiles.”

And that, okay that kind of felt like a punch in the stomach.

He was officially the worst boyfriend in the world. There was no doubt about it. What the hell had he been thinking? All this time he’d been pondering liking Stiles and what was the point? He couldn’t like Stiles. Sure, he cared about him as a friend and maybe the lines blurred slightly and made him think that could possibly be attraction. But he  _loved_ Kate. He had for a long time. He couldn’t just disregard that.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d been practically ignoring her the past few weeks. Well, not anymore. He was going to make it up to her. Starting right now.

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “Really I am. I’ll fix this, I promise.” He sought out her eyes hoping for some sign that she’d forgive him. When he saw a smile creeping onto her face he sighed in relief.

“It’s okay,” she replied, giving him a lingering kiss. “Just remember who’s supposed to be the most important person in your life.” Her expression hardened slightly as she raised a significant eyebrow but Derek didn’t put too much thought into it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him back inside where the rest of the group were putting on their coats.

“We’re going for pizza, you guys coming?” Allison asked, rifling through her purse.

Derek eyed Kate a minute and decided if he wanted to make this up to her, they needed some alone time. “Nah, I think we’ll just stay here. You guys go have some fun.”

Kate squeezed his hand, but it didn’t distract him from the way Stiles’ face fell for just a moment before he plastered on a smile.

“Oh, well see you later!” He  _seemed_ happy, but Derek recognized that tone of strained enthusiasm.

Wow, he really couldn’t win, could he?

 


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles Stilinski has done a lot of things he isn't proud of. He had even made up organized little categories for all the horrible and cripplingly embarrassing things he’s accomplished in his short lifespan and filed them away for later amusement.  
  
Avoiding Derek Hale was high up in his so-called “realm of sucky things.”  
  
It started around the week following Allison’s party, which he spent watching reruns of Seinfeld and debating whether or not to lock his door in case Kate Crazypants Argent came to storm the fort. (Pillow fort, if they were getting technical. He and Scott had taken to building one after he pointedly _hadn't_  gone all mopey over Derek rejecting his offer to get dinner with the lot of them and Scott being mopey enough for the both of them.)

It was in said pillow fort that he got a bit of introspection done. The day after the party, Derek had entered the library, like always, and Stiles had perked up over enthusiastically -  _like always_  -, bracing his hands against the smooth wood of the front desk to keep himself from tumbling over.   
  
It didn’t really take long for his good mood to slip away, however, when he saw that Kate was clinging to his arm like a Koala on a piece of bamboo, tree branch, whatever. She was just clinging and it was enough to draw his lips down into a frown. Stiles watched as the blonde sat down in his usual seat, biting his lip and sinking back into his swivel chair. He spun idly and wondered if it looked half as dejected as he felt. How was he supposed to survive without his study buddy?  
  
Rationally, he knew that Derek was more distracting for him than anything, but he was a creature of habit and he felt strangely protective over Derek, as if only suddenly realizing that Kate was a horrible person for him. Stiles had seen what she'd done to his friends and he didn’t want that to happen to Derek too.  


To make matters worse, the other boy kept sending him heart lurching half smiles over his laptop every time Stiles looked over, as though he  _cared_  that Stiles wasn’t sitting with him. Sighing, he shuffled his papers into his notebook and waited for Lydia to come in. Kate gave him a smug look when Derek wasn’t looking and he swallowed down the sarcastic comment brewing at the tip of his tongue. Instead, he just frowned down at his textbook.   
  
 _Stupid Kate Argent with her stupid hair and stupid boobs and stupid things Derek probably finds attractive_.   
  
He was so caught up in stabbing a piece of blank paper that he didn’t even notice Lydia come in until she tapped him on the shoulder, sending him flying backwards in a tangle of twisted appendages.   
  
“I think I just broke every bone in my body,” Stiles complained, pulling himself up onto the chair again. Lydia just gave him an unimpressed look, before tilting her head.  
  
“You’re upset about something,” the strawberry blonde stated bluntly. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes; something that he wouldn’t have even thought about doing just a few years prior for fear of her flaying him alive. Subtly – read: probably not so subtly, knowing him – he motioned toward where Derek and Kate were sitting, their fingers knotted together between them.  
  
“Oh.” She actually looked surprised for a moment, before her eyes darkened. “ _Oh_ ,” Lydia repeated, more forcefully this time, before blinking at him meaningfully and raising her voice. “I didn’t know they allowed  _bitches_  in the library!”  
  
Stiles slapped a hand over his mouth, bending into himself as Kate whirled around, gaze shooting daggers in Lydia’s direction. The other girl just smirked and he could feel his shoulders shaking.   
  
“Do you feel better yet?” she asked, leaning into him.   
  
“A little,” he replied gratefully. Once he had gotten over his crush on her, he discovered that she really was quite the bombshell to be around. “Thanks.”  
  
Lydia just made a pleased noise and flipped her hair over her shoulder. Once Kate had gone back to studying and whispering intimately with Derek about one thing or another though, Lydia glared over at them, standing with her hands on her hips.  
  
“Hey, Kate,” she whispered with a purposely forced-looking smile. “This is a cool thing called a library, where people come to study, so if you could shut your mouth for two seconds that would be great. Personally, I’m not a fan of migraines and your voice has a bit of a… how do you say, nails on chalkboard quality.”  
  
Stiles keeled over before he could see Kate’s reaction.   
  
Derek gave him an annoyed look and he sobered, laying a hand on the crook of Lydia’s elbow and leaning in. “I love you for doing this, but…” He hoped his voice conveyed that he didn’t want to hurt Derek in the process. The other girl gave Kate one last sharp look before sitting again and scooting her chair closer to Stiles’. Stiles rewarded her with a small smile and she shot him a meaningful look, placing a hand over his for a moment.  
  
Stiles looked down and tried to keep his eyes from straying.  
  
*  
  
Unfortunately, Lydia’s comments hadn’t deterred Psycho Argent in the slightest, and she continued to trail Derek until Stiles had switched shifts with Lucille, the sophomore with the nice eyes. It was lonely, but his chest loosened not seeing Kate and Derek kissing and smiling at each other over the stacks every day. 

*  
“No.”  
  
“What?” Stiles said groggily one day, poking his head out from under the pillows. The sun was already filtering in through the blinds and he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.  
  
Lydia was standing over him, hands on her hips. “No,” she repeated simply, studying her nails. Jackson was lounging behind her, leaning against the wall.   
  
He was going to kill Scott.   
  
“Dude! I can’t believe you called them!”   
  
“I had no other choice, man!” Scott replied, wringing his hands guiltily. “He was a total jerk and I sorta hate him for cancelling on you. It makes you all…” He gestured pointedly. It made him feel the smallest bit more forgiving and he cursed the fact that being mad at his best friend was like kicking a puppy – you just couldn’t do it. “I’m worried about you.”  
  
The bed creaked and he blinked up at Allison. “Stiles, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”  
  
“It’s because I keep getting interrupted by my overprotective friends,” the boy replied dryly, kicking the blanket off and just barely missing the pants Jackson threw his way. Lydia gave him a strange look, sighing.   
  
“Seriously, Stiles.”  
  
He sat up, stretching and taking a small pleasure in the way his bones gave a healthy crack.   
  
“Look, you guys, I’m fine.”  
  
“If you’re upset about Derek, you can just tell us,” Lydia intoned, taking a seat on his other side. Stiles ran a hand through his hair, nodding.   
  
“C’mon, who’s talking about Derek? Derek who?" A bit of the tension leaked out of the room and he could practically hear Danny’s eyes rolling in their sockets. Sliding on his watch, Stiles jumped up and opened the door, grabbing his bag.  
  
“Thanks for waking me,” was all he offered as a good-bye, slamming it in the faces of his protesting friends.   
  
He made a triumphant sound, before accidentally plastering his face against a familiar chest. He backpedalled rapidly, eyes widening.   
  
“Uh, yo, Derek. Big D...” Stiles kicked himself internally at that stunning opening line, feeling his face heat up. Derek opened his mouth to say something, his eyebrows doing a complicated dance, but he cut him off, swallowing hard. “Sorry to miss what’ll probably be an awesome conversation, but I gotta go.” He practically sprinted down the hall, leaving the other boy in the hall outside his room, unable to get a word in edgewise.  
  
Yup, really high up on the list of sucky things.  
  
*  
  
As always, the universe had it out for him, because if it didn’t, he wouldn’t be standing in the pouring rain, buried underneath the hood of his jeep.   
  
“This day literally cannot get any worse.” All he wanted to do was get some food, but no. Apparently, Stiles couldn’t have nice things and there wasn’t anyone to pin the blame on but himself. He sighed, leaning back against the side of the car and letting the rain soak through his clothes. Maybe, he would get hypothermia and Derek would wait vigil at his bedside, holding his hand through the night. It was a nice daydream, if only that, and he ran a hand through the hair that was plastered to his forehead, scraping it back.   
  
“Speak of the devil,” Stiles muttered to himself, watching a familiar black Camaro roll to a stop beside him. Derek looked just like he always did – stunningly gorgeous, and it made Stiles’ chest constrict.   
  
 _No, Stiles_ , he chastised himself,  _Off limits. You don’t ogle the off limits man, it’s bad for your health_.  
  
Derek also happened to have a box of tools and an umbrella.   
  
“Jackson called. Said that he was annoyed Scott was yelling about coming out to rescue you. I’m pretty sure he was about to sprint right out into the storm.”  
  
Stiles wanted to laugh, but it felt too friendly and friendly was not something he was feeling towards the other man as of now. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shuffled under the umbrella a little more and stayed silent. Derek’s face fell, but he propped the box on the wet pavement and slid under the hood, much like Stiles had only minutes prior.   
  
“All you need is a jump start. I can—“  
  
“Help,” Stiles finished with a small tug of the lip. “Don’t talk car to me, sourface, it’s a turn off because I have no idea what you’re going on about.”   
  
“Fair enough,” Derek grinned and Stiles kicked himself internally.   
  
“I’m still mad at you, so don’t… do that with your face.”   
  
“Kate says I haven’t been spending enough time with her,” he said after a beat.   
  
Stiles swallowed, looking at his feet. His chucks are sodden and darkened with rain. “And you thought… you didn’t think after all this time… I mean, I know she’s your girlfriend or whatever and I’m not as, you know, front and center for your attention, but… what about me?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Derek actually looked genuinely concerned and Stiles averted his eyes again.   
  
“You don’t think that I deserve your time, too? I…” He laughed a small bit, trying to clear the mixed emotions flooding into his voice.  
  
“God, Stiles… You should’ve said… You’re right. I didn’t mean to ignore you and—I’m sorry.” Derek stared at him with the patented Scott-McCall-puppy-dog, but it was ten times worst because he looked positively heartbroken.   
  
“This is all very cliché,” Stiles smiled, hoping Derek would know to take it as his apology being accepted. Apparently, he’s been getting pretty good at reading him, because Derek full out beamed, snorting and going back to pulling a jumper cable out of his own car.   
  
Yeah. Really cliché, but Stiles couldn’t find it in him to care.  
  
*

When Jackson had called Derek bitching about the fact that Stiles' Jeep had broken down Derek figured it was because he was a mechanic and, out of everyone, he knew the most about cars. What he did not think, was that Stiles was mad at him and this was his friends' passive-aggressive way of getting them to talk.

When he realised how Stiles was feeling it just felt like one mistake in a line of many nowadays. He really didn't know how he had all these people competing to spend time with him because clearly, he was the worst friend/boyfriend/person on the planet.

It didn't take him long to get Stiles' car running again and now they were idling on the side of the road in the pouring rain and he wasn't sure why.

 _It's because you missed him, idiot_ , his inner voice snapped back at him - and yeah, his conscience was a bit of an ass but it spoke the truth.

"So, are you going home for the holidays?"  _Small talk? Really, Derek?_  

Stiles' eyes brightened though, "Yup! Driving back this Saturday." The enthusiasm he'd grown so used to had returned to Stiles' voice and it made him think that just maybe, they were okay now.

"...Why don't you drive back with me? We can catch up on everything we missed over the last couple of weeks," Derek asked after a moment's hesitation, silently praying Stiles didn't read too much into the offer.

Stiles blinked in surprise. "Won't Kate mind?" he bit his lip anxiously and Derek wanted nothing more than to reach over squeeze Stiles' hand in reassurance. But thoughts like that weren't going to do him any favours.

"I'll talk to her." Derek tried for confident though he wasn't sure if it came across.

But Stiles smiled at him and nodded. "Okay."

*

Derek was packing his suitcase when he heard Boyd scoff behind him. He spun around, raising his eyebrows at the other boy who merely eyed the suitcase significantly as if that said it all.

...It kind of did, really. Derek  _had_  been shoving his clothes in somewhat forcefully. Also, since when had he and Boyd reached a point in their friendship where they could have silent eye conversations?

"What?" Derek asked, purposely oblivious.

Boyd rolled his eyes and stretched out on his bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Derek wondered belatedly if he sounded like an angst-ridden teenager before he decided he didn't care.

"Did you have a fight with Kate?" Boyd was fishing but Derek already knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"No."

Boyd heaved a sigh and hauled himself into a sitting position and Derek took it as his cue to do the same, dropping onto his bed opposite Boyd's.

"Okay I'm gonna be straight with you and I want you to give me an honest answer," Boyd said meaningfully. "...Do you like Stiles?"

Derek tried and failed to come up with an answer about ten different times before finally huffing out a frustrated breath and scrubbing his face with his hands. "I don't know..."

If he expected a reply from Boyd he would've been disappointed because the other boy only stared at him, silently waiting for him to continue.

"Sometimes I think I do...and I, I don't know. I look at him and I just...feel things," he finished lamely.

"Uh yeah, they're called feelings, Derek," Boyd replied dryly in that deadpan tone he always used to piss Derek off.

Derek rolled his eyes but carried on anyway. "I mean, I  _love_  Kate. And Stiles...I care about him and when he was upset before it just- it sucked."

"I think," Boy began. "You need to figure out how you felt when Kate confronted you and when Stiles confronted you. Were you upset about Kate because you felt guilty and like a shitty boyfriend or were you genuinely upset that you hurt her? And with Stiles, well, were you just upset because  _he_  was upset and you didn't like that?"

With that, Boyd stood up, patted his shoulder, urged him to, "think about it," and left the room.

Derek hated when his friends were philosophical.

*

Saturday had come and the drive back to Beacon Hills was...well, it was quiet. That was until, “So what did Kate think about all this?” Stiles asked casually once they’d been on the road for twenty minutes.

Derek stiffened but forced himself to smile. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Come onnnn," Stiles drawled. "What’d she say?”

“Alright, fine she was a little pissed-” Actually, she was  _a lot_  pissed,

Stiles' eyes narrowed as he began to object. “ _Derek_ -“

“But it’s fine," Derek cut in quickly and perhaps, a little harshly. He tried to relax and softened his tone. "My problems with Kate are exactly that; mine. Don’t worry about it, Stiles.”

“I don’t want to be the one making your life difficult here,” Stiles frowned.

“You’re not,” Derek promised, “Look, Kate’s not used to having to share me. I never had to plan to spend time with Erica, Isaac and Boyd because Boyd lives with me and Erica and Isaac spend more time in my room than they ever do in their own. So any free time I had, I was with her.”

Derek chanced a glance at Stiles and saw that he was staring down at his hands.

“But then you came along and you actually wanted to spend time with me -and I can’t stress how rare that is-” That got a ghost of a smile from Stiles.

“And I  _like_  hanging out with you. I want to make plans to see you, Kate needs to understand that. Relationships don’t work without give and take, right?”

Stiles nodded mutely, still looking unsure. “But isn’t she leaving Beacon Hills pretty much the minute she gets home? Allison told me about her dad and Kate going to visit her grandfather.” 

“She is and yes, I’m going to miss her but I can live without her for a week. You and me though, we’ve barely had a conversation in weeks so in this particular situation, driving home with you was more important to me.”

Explaining it to Stiles actually made it clearer in his own head. He hadn’t been able to justify wanting to drive back with Stiles when he and Kate were talking about it - more like yelling - but Kate had gotten so huffy at the mere mention of the idea that she'd decided to drive back with Allison anyway. In this one instance, Kate being mad at him was actually sort of a good thing.

“So, how are you going to spend the holidays?” Derek asked, hoping Stiles would accept the change in conversation.

Thankfully, he did. He visibly relaxed and his grin returned. “Oh y’know eating my bodyweight in food, spend time with my dad and Scott and his mom…I’ll probably visit my mom too,” he added on quietly.

Derek nodded in understanding giving Stiles a tentative smile. So much for lightening the mood.

“What about you?” Stiles asked, brushing the moment off with a resilience that can only come from years of pointedly ignoring one's problems.

“I’ll probably let Laura and Peter torture me for a while. Isaac will be there so maybe I’ll have some back-up. Then again, he’ll probably turn on me the second he gets in the door.”

Stiles snorted but then eyed Derek questioningly. “If Isaac’s staying with you, why didn’t he ride with us?”

“He went with Boyd and Erica.”

“Wow, you really went all out to make sure we were alone, didn’t you?” Stiles teased.

Derek froze, eyes widening at the implication but he recovered quickly. “For your information, Isaac decided to go with them  _before_  I knew you’d be driving back with me. Apparently the thought of being stuck in the car with me and Kate for six hours is less than desirable.”

Stiles nodded emphatically, “I can totally understand his aversion to third-wheeling; it’s nauseating.”

“But he’s in the exact same situation in Boyd’s car!” Derek protested.

“Hmm, maybe it’s just being in the car with Argent women? Those girls have the men in their life falling at their feet.”

“I’m not that bad,” Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“I bet when you were my age, you were just like Scott is now,” Stiles smirked, obviously taking great pleasure in teasing him. Derek decided to make a mental note to stop Stiles from hanging out with Allison so much. She was clearly corrupting him.

“What? I was  _not_ ,” Derek said indignantly.

“Don’t lie, Derek. I bet you had the cheesiest lines too. Making all the girls swoon. But you know a pretty face doesn’t get you everything,” Stiles laughed to himself, he was having the time of his life.

Well, two could play at that game.

“Stiles,” Derek began solemnly. “Did you just call me pretty?” He maintained a serious face for all of 2.5 seconds before breaking into a laugh.

“What? No! I was just-” Stiles sputtered, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. “Shut up!”

Derek grinned to himself, counting it as a win. “Anyway, you’re one to talk. I know exactly what you’re up to with the whole dorky charming thing you’ve got going on.”

“Wait. What dorky charming thing?” Stiles honestly looked surprised -  _he can’t be that oblivious surely_ , Derek thought to himself. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Quirky is basically a prerequisite for every male protagonist in every movie nowadays and you’ve got it down to a tee.” Derek could feel his face heating up under Stiles’ scrutiny. God, he just slipped up big time.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles really did look confused.

Well, crap.  _Way to blur the lines again_ ,  _Derek._

“You’re the underdog that everybody roots for, who gets the girl in the end,” Derek continued more carefully. “Come on, you know how the story goes.”

Stiles finally tore his gaze away from Derek and it made him breathe a little easier.

A few minutes passed before Stiles spoke again, though his voice was barely above a whisper. “What if I don’t want the girl though?”

“Fine, then you’ll get the guy in the end.” Okay, so that question might have made Derek panic just a teeny bit. Stiles didn’t like someone, did he?

It took him longer than it should’ve to remember that he’s not supposed to care.

Stiles didn’t answer but Derek was almost positive he heard him mutter a, “Doubt it,” under his breath.

The rest of the drive was lot more easy-going,  _thank God_. They kept the conversation light and uncomplicated, mostly just catching up on everything they’d missed the last few weeks. Stiles insisted on singing along to the radio obnoxiously loudly and would change the station every two seconds to find another Christmas song.

He pleaded with Derek to sing with him and when that didn’t work he started singing  _to_  him.

It was probably the most fun Derek had had on a drive home to Beacon Hills ever since he started college. While Stiles was talkative and loud for much of the journey, he knew when to be quiet and let a comfortable silence settle between them.

It was when they were nearly home and Stiles had his head against the window and was mumbling sleepily to him, still trying to continue their conversation that Derek was sure he made the right decision in driving home with Stiles.

They arrived at Stiles’ house just before dusk. Stiles was up and alert in seconds, bounding out of the car the minute it stopped, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his home. He pulled his bag out of the trunk and hiked it over his shoulder. He turned to Derek then, who was standing in front of the car.

“Thanks for the ride home. Don’t be a stranger this week, okay?” He smiled and pulled Derek into hug like it was the most natural thing in the world. Derek, for once, ignored the million conflicting emotions in his head and just hugged back without thinking about it. 

“I’ll call you,” he promised.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Ciara here, so since this is my first time posting the chapter I just wanna say a huge thank you for the lovely response we've gotten (It makes us flail A LOT) and I hope you liked it :)
> 
> As always you can find Hela at [ whoaitshela](http://whoaitshela.tumblr.com/) and myself at [ scottangelfacemccall](http://scottangelfacemccall.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

“I want the s’mores poptarts.”  
  
“But I hate those ones.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“Children please.”  
  
Derek and Laura both turned to glare at their Uncle in a way that Derek knew was creepily synchronised.  
  
“We’re not children,  _old man_.” Laura crinkled her nose as she ruffled Peter’s hair. Derek tried to tune them out and remember the shopping list that was still sitting on the counter in the kitchen of the Hale house - of course they left the house without the one thing they actually needed.   
  
He had to admit though; he liked hearing Laura and Peter bicker. It was comforting in a strange sort of way. He’d missed home. He’d missed his family.  
  
A little ways down the aisle he heard a familiar voice and looked up in surprise.  
  
“Dad, you are  _not_  getting Lucky Charms. Is this really the crap you’ve been eating while I was away?” Stiles was saying to his father. Derek recognised the Sheriff immediately, he was giving his son an exasperated look but there was fondness in his eyes.  
  
He must’ve been staring because Laura was suddenly peering over his shoulder. “Why are you ogling the Sheriff?” she asked curiously.  
  
Derek rolled his eyes and looked away from Stiles and his Dad. “I’m not ogling the Sheriff.”  
  
“Oh, so it was his charming son then, was it?” Peter asked with mild amusement.  
  
“Stiles is my friend,” Derek protested a little defensively.  
  
Laura’s eyes lit up. “Oh really?”  
  
Derek knew that devious tone and it never ended well for him.  
  
“And by friends you mean with benefits, I assume?” Peter smiled like that was a perfectly normal thing to ask your  _nephew_.  
  
“First of all, normal families are not this open with each other.”

Peter’s smile turned into a smirk at that.  
  
“Second of all, when I say friends, I mean friends. You know I have a girlfriend. Kate. Remember?”  
  
Laura made a face but said nothing. Peter just nodded faintly. He knew they weren’t particularly fond of Kate. Their first encounter didn’t exactly go very well.  
  
Laura seemed to physically brush the moment off and bounded down the aisle. “Sheriff!” she called cheerily.  
  
Derek hurried after her, grabbing her by the back of the shirt. “What are you doing?” he hissed.  
  
But the Sheriff and Stiles had already looked up. Laura beamed at them and elbowed Derek in the ribs.  
  
“Laura,” the Sheriff said kindly at the same time as Stiles said “Derek?” like he forgot Derek lived in Beacon Hills.  
  
The Sheriff looked between them curiously and eyed Laura. “Am I missing something?”  
  
Laura spoke up immediately, “Apparently these two have been getting acquainted while away at college.”  
  
 _And could she have been more suggestive_? Derek wanted to die.  
  
He heard Peter’s soft chuckle behind him and knew the situation was about to get ten times worse.  
  
“Well since we’re all friends then, Sheriff, why don’t you and Stiles join us for dinner?” Peter was doing his creepy, calm persuasive thing and it was clear it was working.  
  
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose,” the Sheriff said in the same way all adults did when they were trying to be polite.  
  
“We’re supposed to be having dinner with Scott and his mom tonight anyway,” Stiles reminded his father and then gave Derek a half smile in apology.  
  
“So bring them along!” Laura insisted. “Isaac’s staying with us anyway. You can all play in the living room while the grown-ups gossip about you in the kitchen.” Laura smirked purposefully at Derek who rolled his eyes.  
  
“Laura, you’re only a year older than me.”  
  
“Details,” she waved a hand, brushing him off and looked back to the Sheriff. “What d’you say?”  
  
The Sheriff looked to Stiles seemingly taking his cues from him. Stiles was looking at Derek though, like he was waiting for his reaction. Derek didn’t know what his face said but Stiles must’ve seen something there because he smiled and nodded.  
  
“I’ll call Scott; tell him we’ve got a change of plans.”  
  
The Sheriff looked pleased and Laura was positively glowing. “Great, stop by around 7? You remember the way?”  
  
The Sheriff nodded, “I remember. Oh Allison Argent’s staying with the McCalls. You don’t mind if she comes along?”  
  
“The more the merrier!” Laura proclaimed and whisked Derek away.  
  
*  
  
Derek didn’t know what to expect from dinner but it felt…well, it kind of felt like he had a family again.  
For so long it was just him, Laura and Peter.  
  
But Isaac was alone. Stiles and his dad only had each other. The same went for Scott and his mom. And since Allison refused to visit her grandfather with Kate and her dad, she was alone too. It seemed right to combine all these half-families together and make them something whole again.  
  
He could see the elation on Laura’s face all day and she cooked a feast that could feed a small army - she’d always adored helping their mother cook Christmas dinner - he knew this was good for her. Even Peter, who was always coolly content, seemed a little softer.  
  
He sat next to Stiles at the long dining table and didn’t miss the way Laura was still grinning at him mischievously. But Isaac was sitting next to her and staring like she was the most magnificent thing he’d ever seen so Derek was honestly too busy being amused about that to pay attention to his sister.  
  
The Sheriff, Melissa and Peter gossiped like a bunch of old ladies at the hair salon while Allison and Scott kept sharing these little looks that were excruciatingly adorable. And all the while Stiles was at Derek’s side - stealing food off his plate whenever he thought Derek wasn’t looking, humming Christmas songs under his breath or whispering quietly to Derek about how happy he was that his dad seemed happy. And Derek would whisper back about how he felt the same about Laura and Peter.  
  
“It’s just been hard since my mom died, y’know?” Stiles whispered, inclining his head to lean closer to Derek so no one else could hear. “I know he’s happy most of the time but sometimes, especially around the holidays, I wonder if he’s really okay.”  
  
“I get it,” Derek replied quietly. “This house is huge, I always wonder if Peter and Laura are okay here on their own.”  
  
Stiles was about to reply when Laura clapped her hands together and announced they were having dessert in the living room.  
  
*  
  
Moving to the living room was a bad idea. It wasn’t like there were many embarrassing pictures from Derek’s childhood since they’d lost most of them in the fire, but there  _were_  some Christmas decorations he’d made in elementary school which spurred Laura’s scarily phenomenal memory.   
  
She’d told a total of ten stories so far, barely pausing to take a breath. And all the while Derek sunk further and further down the couch, trying to blend in with the cushions.  
  
“And that’s how Derek broke his arm thinking he could hang upside down like Spiderman,” Laura concluded her latest story to resounding laughter.  
  
Stiles was sitting next to him again and was grinning lopsidedly at him with laughter in his eyes.  
  
“Shut up,” Derek grumbled, angrily hugging a pillow to his chest to stop himself from throwing it at his sister.  
  
“Aw, don’t be like that!” Stiles cried, flopping back against the cushions so he was slumped halfway down the couch like Derek. He leaned into his space almost absently, letting his shoulder bump Derek’s. “Kid you sounds awesome. And if it helps, the stories from my childhood are way worse.”   
  
He was going to reply but with his head turned to face the other boy they were only mere inches apart. And in that moment, it was really easy to forget they were in a room full of people. It was really easy to forget about everything except Stiles, honestly.  
  
“It’s snowing!” Scott’s cry broke him out of his reverie and he was saved from an awkward excuse because Stiles immediately raced over to the window to join his best friend.   
  
The others looked toward the window with varying degrees of interest, sure enough; snow was falling and was steadily getting heavier. Laura wasn’t looking though, she was watching Derek.  
  
“What?” he mouthed.  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. “Well, come on!” Laura looked away from her brother and addressed the room at large. “That snow’s not gonna last very long. Better make the most of it while we can.”  
  
Scott and Stiles didn’t need to be told twice. They tore out the door, hardly sparing a minute to grab their jackets. Allison and Isaac followed in amusement. The Sheriff and Melissa were shaking their heads like they already knew their sons were about to revert to 5-year-olds.  
  
Peter threw a jacket at Derek - who was still stuck where he was - and then Laura came over and pulled him up off the couch, leaving no room for argument.  
  
*  
“Okay, McCalls and Stilinskis versus Hales?” Laura suggested. “Allison can be an honorary McCall obviously.”  
  
Even in the dim light provided by the lights from the house, it was clear she was blushing. But she went to stand with Scott nonetheless.  
  
“Isaac sweetie, get over here! You’re a Hale,” Laura said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Isaac made one of those heart lurching faces he’d always make when someone openly cared for him and Derek was glad Laura had linked Isaac’s arm to hold him in place. He needed gestures like that sometimes.  
  
“But that’s five against four,” Stiles pointed out.  
  
“That’s fine. We’ll kick your ass anyway.” Derek retorted casually. He smirked at Stiles, a challenge in his eyes. And standing in the freezing cold at ten o’clock at night was so worth it, if only to see the look of determination that came over Stiles.  
  
“Fine. Let it never be said that a Stilinski man turned down a challenge.”  
  
The “battle” ended in the first five minutes once everyone seemed to forget they were on opposing sides and just pelted whoever they could with snow balls. They couldn’t even be deigned snowballs honestly; it was more like they just grabbed fistfuls of snow and flung them at each other.  
  
It was like a scene from the cheesiest Christmas movie ever but…Derek kind of loved it.  
  
And if, when he was chasing Stiles and he caught him around the waist, he held on for just a little too long, well, nobody needed to know.  
  
*  
  
They returned to the house shivering with flushed faces and tired smiles but it was worth it. Peter bustled past Derek, the Sheriff and Melissa trailing after him, as he presumably went to start up the fire. Laura was leading Allison upstairs to give her something to change into, in favour of her cardigan that was soaked with melted snow.  
  
Isaac and Scott were already hurrying to the kitchen announcing they were making hot chocolate for everyone.  
  
Derek watched as Stiles shrugged off his sopping jacket and dropped it unceremoniously on the chair by the door. His jeans were drenched from when he and Scott decided to make snow angels and if the way he was shaking was anything to go by, his hoodie was damp too.  
  
Taking pity on him, Derek caught his sleeve and started to pull him upstairs.   
  
“Wha-“  
  
“I’ll give you something to change into before you get hypothermia,” Derek explained.  
  
Stiles mouth clamped shut comically and Derek rolled his eyes to stop himself from laughing fondly. When they reached his room, Derek went straight to the chest of drawers to search for the old pair of sweats that had faded and softened in the wash.  
  
Stiles was standing idly in his doorway when Derek found them. There was a moment where they stared at each other for just the tiniest bit too long and Derek couldn’t help but think of the moment on the couch before, when he’d only been a breath away from Stiles.  
  
But then Stiles was clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head awkwardly, bringing Derek back to reality.  
  
“Uh here,” he said tossing the sweats to Stiles and grabbing his own clothes. “You can use the bathroom, through there,” he gestured with a nod of his head. “I’ll meet you downstairs?”  
  
Stiles hesitated a minute and nodded. “Yeah.”  
  
*  
  
Derek was seated in his corner of the couch - he would only ever sit in the corner seats since they were the only ones that reclined - when Stiles came downstairs.  
  
Everyone had found a place by then really; Isaac was lying across the rest of the couch, Scott and Allison were curled up in the arm chair not even trying to be platonic anymore, Laura and Peter shared one of the two-seaters and Melissa and the Sheriff shared the other.  
  
Stiles took in the seating arrangements before shoving Isaac’s legs. “Move over.”  
  
Isaac smirked but obligingly curled up to give Stiles some room. Stiles flopped down next to Derek, much like he had earlier, but this time he seemed to have no problem with nestling into Derek side.  
  
“Stiles-“  
  
“You’re warm. And I swear to God if you move-” Stiles let the threat hang in the air and Derek noted the Sheriff’s expression of amusement.  
  
With a surreptitious glance around the room to see if anyone was really paying them attention - no one was - he curled a hand around Stiles, pulling him closer. Stiles made a contented noise and let his eyes fall shut.  
  
After a minute, Derek did the same.  
  
*  
  
It was almost midnight when Laura decided to head to bed. Scott and Allison were asleep in the arm chair, a blanket already thrown over them. Isaac was asleep on one end of the couch, his legs somewhat tangled with Stiles’.  
  
Stiles. Who was currently wrapped up in a blanket with her brother and they both had the most stupidly happy smiles on their faces.  _Even while they were sleeping._ She was torn between finding it adorable and rolling her eyes.  
  
She was crouched in front of the fireplace, dousing the flames when she heard a noise behind her.   
  
She turned to see Isaac’s eyes fluttering open.  
  
“Santa?” he asked with a mischievous, albeit sleepy, grin.  
  
“Something like that,” she smirked and padded over to the couch, sitting on the floor just by Isaac’s head.  
  
“Where’re the others?”   
  
“Peter took Mrs McCall and the Sheriff home so they could get Scott, Allison and Stiles’ presents and bring them here.”  
  
“What?” Isaac frowned and she couldn’t help but think he looked cute when he was confused.  
  
“You all looked too precious; we couldn’t bear to wake you,” she grinned. “So I twisted their arms and convinced them to stay here for the night. I can be very persuasive.”  
  
“I’ve noticed,” Isaac muttered, sounding more awake.  
  
She felt the corners of her mouth lift when he smiled at her. “So what’s the deal with my brother and Stiles?” she asked, nodding to the two at the end of the couch.  
  
“If you can figure it out, you’re doing better than the rest of us,” he chuckled softly. “I think he’s conflicted. He doesn’t want to be  _that guy_ , y’know? The one who leaves his girlfriend for someone else.”

“That rule only counts if your girlfriend’s not a bitch.”  
  
Isaac let out a startled laugh but nodded in agreement. “Good point.”  
  
“He deserves someone who looks at him like Stiles does,” she sighed. “Not like he’s-“  
  
“A pretty accessory and/or ATM machine?”  
  
“Precisely.”  
  
Isaac didn’t take his eyes of Stiles and Derek as he spoke, “Stiles has gotten under his skin. He’s falling for him and there’s really nothing he can do to stop it. Give it time.”  
  
Yeah, she wouldn’t be giving it  _too_  much time if she had anything to say about it. “What about you? The rest of them are all paired off, what’s your deal?”  
  
“Don’t have one,” he shrugged. “Too shy and awkward I guess. And not awkward in the quirky way like Stiles.”  
  
Laura frowned for a minute before lightly kissing Isaac’s cheek. “You don’t need to be like anyone else, you’re cute all on your own,” she said with a wry smile. And then she was scrambling off the carpet and was strolling to the stairs.  
  
“Laura.”  
  
When she turned around Isaac was sitting up, his hair dishevelled from sleep. “Merry Christmas.”

She smirked. “Goodnight Isaac.”   
  
*  
  
Stiles woke with a jolt, eyebrows lowering.  _Where the hell am I?_  He thought to himself, nudging his foot against someone else’s leg and groaning as he looked around.  
  
“Right. Hale’s. Christmas.”  
  
Stiles grinned, pausing for a moment. Derek was still fast asleep beside him, looking peaceful and beautiful in a way that he probably wouldn’t want to disturb on any other day; it made his heart ache, waking up to him this way and knowing he probably wouldn’t ever get to again. Trying to shake the image from his memory, the boy whacked Derek across the shoulder.  
  
“Derek! Christmas!”  
  
His dark haired companion only moaned, tightening his grip around Stiles’ waist.   
  
“Derek,” he tried to glare, but his mouth wavered, quirking up slightly. From his other side, he could hear Isaac shuffling around before a muffled  _thump_  reached his ears.   
  
“Jesus Christ,” Isaac mumbled into the ground before his eyes fluttered shut, breath slowing as he fell back into slumber.  
  
“What is wrong with you people?” Stiles cried, mostly to Derek, framing his face with his hands and tapping lightly, stubble rasping against his palms. “Christmas!”  
  
Someone threw a pillow at him from across the room, clipping him in the ear. He suspected Scott; the dude was crazy in the morning. He was about to whirl around, giving an indignant squawk before he felt lazy hands trail down his sides comfortingly.   
  
“Stiles...” Derek murmured, still half asleep. It was irritatingly adorable. “’S on’y four. Go back to sleep.”  
  
“But—“   
  
He flashed Stiles a look through dark lashes and, okay, really  _that_  wasn’t fair, just kick a man when he was at a generally unstable point in his emotional spectrum. It was like one of those bad Christmas specials where everybody cries, except no one was really crying aside from Stiles and that was only because seriously,  _who_  has eyes that beautiful?   
  
Aware that no one else was going to be getting up for at least another hour, Stiles sighed, settling back into Derek’s embrace. He made a happy noise that was too cute for words and Stiles’ stomach turned.  
  
“Finally… peace ‘n quiet.”   
  
He hoped the second wave of glaring Stiles was sending Derek’s way hurt him a little deep down there in his dark soul.  
  
*  
  
When Stiles awakened for the second time, it was to a plate of cookies, hot chocolate, and Derek Hale staring at him intensely.   
  
“Whoa there, Edward Cullen,” he snickered, leaning forward to grab a mug with what looked like the most whipped cream. He fell just short and overbalanced, flopping off the couch, but getting his fingertips around the handle of a mug.   
  
“Score.”   
  
Stiles sipped carefully, a montage of bad hot chocolate burns and spills resulting in profane language he couldn’t dare utter when his father could still have been in earshot playing in the back of his mind. Derek snorted when he sighed, going boneless against the couch. No one else was up yet, it seemed, and he pressed his toes into Isaac’s spine, shaking his back a little.   
  
“Go ‘way. Didn’t work the first time.” The curly haired boy’s face was still pressed into the carpet and he didn’t look like he intended to move anytime soon.  
  
“You people have no sense of Christmas spirit,” He turned towards Derek. “Maybe you. Which is terrifying, by the way.”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles could see the grin playing on his lips.   
  
“I haven’t had Christmas like this in years,” Stiles sighed, running a hand over what was undoubtedly incredibly mussed hair.   
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Stiles tried for a few gestures, waving his hands through the air. “I don’t know, the whole big holiday thing with the camping out in the living room and the cookies and shit, you know?"  
  
“Yeah.” Derek gave him an understanding smile.   
  
For a moment, they just sat there, breathing, sort of holding hands, but not quite.   
  
He grabbed another cookie, dunking it into the hot chocolate and scarfing it down just as Laura entered the room. He noted how Derek slid his hand away at the sight of his sister with one last squeeze. Stiles could feel his eyes on him and resisted the urge to meet his gaze. Instead, he cleared his throat, refocusing on Laura, who nabbed herself three of his cookies without him noticing. Fucking Derek.  
  
“Laura, you’re my only favorite in this house,” he said, trying to distract himself.  
  
She was decked out in reindeer ears and the most obnoxious Christmas sweater the world has ever seen. Stiles was pretty sure he officially had a thing for Hales. Laura beamed and he grinned back, winking. In his peripheral vision, he just managed to catch Derek frowning, impressively managing to drink hot chocolate  _aggressively_.  
  
Feeling particularly courageous, he reached out and threw an arm over Derek’s shoulders, smiling.   
  
“Don’t be so down, Ebenezer Hale, I’ve known you longer.”  
  
“Hey! Technically, the best friend should be the favorite and the one you’ve known longest.” That was Scott.   
  
He snorted and tried not to read into the way Derek’s cheeks went pink under his stubble.  
  
*  
  
They managed to rouse the rest of their ragtag group, Scott and Stiles wrestling around and nearly knocking down the tree as wrapping paper was torn from boxes and littered around the floor. Derek smiled more softly than Stiles had ever seen opening his presents from Laura.  
  
Sitting back on his haunches, Stiles pulled out his phone, snapping a quick picture of Derek’s profile before anyone caught him. There was nothing wrong with having a picture of your friend on your phone. Or setting it as your background image. Nothing.  
  
“Did Peter seriously get you socks?” he grinned.   
  
Derek gave him an exasperated sigh. “He does this every year. Somehow I still have hope.”  
  
Somewhere behind them, a camera flash went off. Probably his Dad. The man was a serial photographer. Peter was snickering with Laura.   
  
“It is past the point of old, Peter!” Derek told him.  
  
Stiles couldn’t help but laugh a little, grinning as he tore into the next present with a particular vengeance. That was probably why he didn’t realize it was hissing.  
  
“What the holy hell--!” he jumped back, scooting along the carpet.  
  
Peter sprung forward, grinning, taking much amusement from scaring the crap out of him. “Oh, that’s mine. I think we mixed up the tags. You  _did_  get me the snake, Laura!”   
  
“I do aim to please,” she told him serenely, watching over the entire gathering with a very zen aura about her.  


“Dude, your sister has gone all Buddha on us.”   
  
Derek waved his hand. “This always happens. She likes to act as though she’s the one who got over the hype fastest then springs some Christmas spirit on us all later with some crazy stunt like fireworks or something.”   
  
Looking around, Stiles smiled, watching his friends' - his  _family’s_  - faces glow while opening their presents and tucking his phone back into his pocket. The Christmas holiday felt fuller this year, not so lonely. Not so grey.   
  
Outside, a light dusting of snow began to fall, washing over them in pale strips of white.   
  
*  
  
After presents had been sorted, all packaged away or being played with (Or worn, if the reindeer hat Stiles was wearing and the new sweater Isaac was tucked into were any indication), they sprawled themselves back into their former sleeping positions, making small room for the adults.   
  
“Christmas specials!” Scott had demanded, leaving no room for argument. Not that anyone would argue, Christmas movies were the best part of the day.  
  
About halfway through their second round of ‘Home Alone,’ Scott and his father, the traitors, began regaling the group with stories about his past.   
  
“When Stiles was younger, he tried to glue cotton balls to our faces, cause he wanted us to be ‘the backup Santas’ in case the real Santa got too old and died.”   
  
Allison gave him strange looks for a long time after that.   
  
“His mother seemed to think it was a good idea to dress him in all white and he was just so pale back then we nearly lost him in the snow.”   
  
“Not much changed, obviously,” Derek snorted, flicking lightly at his pale skin.   
  
“Hey!” Stiles protested, but there was no bite.  
  
There was a content silence floating around the room and Stiles slid his pinkie over his companion’s, nervous without a sleep addled brain, letting it settle there while they continued their way through movies and bad stories about their childhood.   
  
“I told you my childhood stories were worse,” Stiles whispered, grinning. Something bloomed in his chest when Derek gave him a broad smile.   
  
And all through the night, no matter how many times Stiles flicked his gaze back down to their hands, Derek didn’t pull away.   
  
*  
  
The adults and co retreated to their homes early the next morning, once everyone had stuffed themselves with stocking candy and Christmas cookies, giving each other playful shoves and meaningful hugs. (Stilinskis gave good hugs, enough said.)   
  
Stiles frowned, pulling his phone out of his pocket when it began to vibrate.   
  
His phone was never on vibrate. Shrugging, he figured Scott must’ve changed it while they were watching movies, knowing that the Batman theme song going off during the more dramatic moments of “It’s a Wonderful Life” would totally kill his moves on Allison.   
  
He unlocked the screen easily, surprised he wasn’t asked for his usual password. (Said password was ScottJohn; the names of his two favorite people and incredibly easy to figure out. Sometimes he got a little second-hand embarrassment from past self, but was too lazy to change it.)  
  
“Hello?” Stiles coughed, patting his chest thoughtfully and pondering the lack of the code.  
  
“Hi, babe! Merry Christmas!”   
  
He lowered the phone in confusion, eyebrows drawing close. This wasn't his phone.  
  
It was Derek’s. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, it's been a while...XD Sorry about that, real life and writer's block sometimes make things difficult. Anywho, enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

He hung up.

It wasn’t on purpose, but he panicked! What else was there to do?

The phone began to vibrate again and he stared at it with wide eyes, heart rocketing. Kate was calling him. Kate, Derek’s scary girlfriend who hated him Kate, was calling him. He let out a mildly hysterical laugh, because she wasn’t really calling him. She was calling Derek. She was going to freak when she found out it wasn’t Derek. She was going to hurt him and hurt Derek and -

He could be Derek.

“Derek?” Her voice had a particularly sour edge to it now and he wouldn’t admit it, but it made his hands quake.

God, she was a bitch. A terrifying bitch that could probably beat him in all sorts of physical endeavors if it came down to it, but a bitch nonetheless.

Personal opinions to the side, Stilinski. Focus.

“Hey, uh, Kate. I’m sorr - “

Kate cut him off, ranting furiously and demanding to know why “Derek” had hung up on her.

“Seriously, all you do nowadays is hang out with that Stilin - ”

Ear ringing, he searched blindly for the end call button again, turning toward the wall and resting his head there.

This was not a good idea. Especially because he was so close to listening in on all the gory, personal details of Kate and Derek’s relationship.

Shaking his head as if to clear his mind, he realized that if he had Derek’s phone, the other man probably had his. Groaning, Stiles kicked his feet up and threw an arm over his eyes. He had some pretty incriminating things on there and his password wasn’t exactly the most sound. Something else niggled at the back of his mind, pressing him to remember. He…

He had Derek’s picture as his background. Groaning, he really hoped Derek was feeling annoyed that morning and was too agitated to even try to get his password right. If he even had the phone. Maybe he didn’t have the phone!

“Who am I kidding? With my luck, he probably has the phone and has already figured out the password and is about to text and announce that we’re no longer friends,” Stiles muttered to himself.

Life sucked.

*

Derek was putting on that god-awful Christmas sweater Laura insisted he wear when he noticed it. Almost hidden under his bed, but not quite, was his phone. _It must’ve fallen out of my hoodie when I was getting changed_ , he thought. He crouched down to pick it up, not bothering to give it a second look, and jogged back down the stairs to the living room.

There was still wrapping paper all over the floor and half-full mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table but the room was otherwise empty – Peter was probably in the kitchen making breakfast but as for Isaac and Laura… well Derek wasn’t blind, he’d noticed them spending an awful lot of time together.

Not wanting his thoughts to wander to where _that_ might lead – because seriously, there were some things little brothers and best friends really didn’t need to know - Derek grabbed one of the malformed Christmas cookies from the plate on the coffee table before stretching out across the couch and taking out his phone.

Up close, it looked a lot more scratched up than he remembered. It’d fallen on carpet, there was no way that amount of damage was possible. Derek frowned as he tried unlocking the screen only to discover his phone had been locked with a password.

Except he didn’t have a password on his phone.

But Stiles did.

Derek was ashamed that it took him as long as it did to realise it wasn’t his phone - he was still recovering from yesterday’s food coma, his brain was a bit slow on the uptake, okay? He considered the phone for a moment. The rational part of his brain knew he shouldn’t look; the phone was obviously locked for a reason. But Derek didn’t want to snoop; he just wanted to…guess the password.

Or maybe he wanted to prove he knew Stiles well enough to guess his password.

He tried the obvious one first; Stiles’ date of birth, but no such luck.

Then he tried Scott’s name because Stiles and Scott had the exact type of co-dependent friendship would totally do that but nope. No dice.

Swallowing down his guilt, he tried Stiles’ mom’s name next. He was almost relieved when it didn’t work.

Then he tried Stiles’ dad’s name but it didn’t work either.

Derek knew he should stop guessing because, knowing him, he’d probably end up locking Stiles’ phone permanently. And wouldn’t that be fun to explain to Stiles? But as a last ditch attempt he tried combining the names he’d previously guessed.

JohnClaudia was too long and he didn’t think Stiles would pick it anyway – too many dredged up memories - but after he typed in ScottJohn the screen lit up again and he was in. Derek’s pride over figuring out the password was short lived when he saw Stiles’ wallpaper.

It was Derek.

Immediately he knew the picture had been taken Christmas morning but he couldn’t remember it happening. It was a little blurry and there was a bit of a glare from the Christmas lights and he wasn’t looking at the camera but he was smiling contentedly.

Why would Stiles put a picture of him as his wallpaper?

Or better yet, why did knowing Stiles put a picture of him as his wallpaper make Derek’s heart swell?

(He knew why. He’d known why for too long now. He just wasn’t ready to face it yet.)

*

The annoying thing was, Derek’s phone refused to stop ringing.

 _I don’t know how he lives with her hounding him all the time_ , Stiles thought to himself, sprawled across his father’s couch and resting the phone against his stomach. He had changed the ringtone about three times before deciding that vibrate was probably best. Funky tunes didn’t really suit Derek or any of his possessions anyhow, even if they did come in the form of Marvin Gaye’s infamous, “Let’s get it on.”

The fact that Kate was the one calling really put a damper on the song’s meaning.

After stuffing himself with poptarts and leftover food from Christmas, the battery finally ran dry. Weirdly, he hadn’t had it in him to turn it off, letting it ring for nearly an hour. Maybe it was lingering guilt from the way Stiles’ pulse raced at the mere thought of Derek’s soft expressions and snarky comments.

Feeling slightly miserable - and still without a clear reason as to why - Stiles wrapped himself in his mother’s old afghan and resigned himself to a night of marathoning The Walking Dead.

*

The next morning, about halfway through  _27 Dresses_ , Lydia barged in to lay his outfit out.

“You don’t need to do this for me every time I try and leave the house, Lyd,” Stiles told her, stretching and hitting pause.

Lydia rolled her eyes, but didn’t reply. Vaguely surprised - and figuring that she knew it would drive him crazy wondering exactly how many different ways she was judging him - Stiles sat up and followed her up the stairs, watching as she rifled through his closet.

“Do you have anything I bought you in here?”

“Nope,” Stiles replied, popping his ‘p’ nonchalantly. Lydia gave him a look so frigid over her shoulder, he swore it could turn him to ice. She set clothing out with a look of mild disgust. Stiles’ mind began to wander. After all, Lydia’s finding process had always been tedious. He tried on all the things she wanted carefully, knowing his opinion wouldn’t hold any weight between the two of them.

“Whose phone is that?” Lydia’s voice broke him out of his reverie.

Stiles scrambled past her, panicked, arms still stuck halfway through the arm holes in his shirt. “Mine! Mine. Obviously mine. Why do you think I would have someone else’s phone?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Stiles? Are you really going back to the whole… thieving juvenile delinquent phase again?”

“Technically, I would just be a delinquent,” he pointed out, motioning quickly to himself once he’s freed from his shirt. The movement was stiff and aborted. “And I didn’t steal the thing.”

“Oh, trust me. You’re still very juvenile.” Lydia picked the phone up, tapping her perfect manicure against the case. “I’ve borrowed your phone before, Stiles. It looks like it’s been through a hurricane and lived to tell the tale. This is in mint condition.”

“Dad… bought me a new one!”

“Your father, who you are no longer living with, bought you a new iPhone. What a generous thing for him to do,” Lydia quipped, quirking an eyebrow.

Stiles slumped in defeat, figuring that was about as far as he could carry the lie. “It’s Derek’s.”

“Why do you have Derek’s phone?”

“I don’t know. I guess they just got swapped while we were hanging out on Christmas or something?”

Lydia studied the phone for another second before setting it down, giving him a resigned look. She settled in beside him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m supposed to be getting you ready for a party.”

“Yeah.” Stiles shook his head, a small huff of laughter escaping through his teeth. “Sorry.”

“Shut up, Stilinski.” Lydia rolled her eyes again, but it was softer this time. Friendly.

“I’m screwed aren’t I? With the Derek thing?”

“Sure. But everyone is screwed with feelings. They’re terrible. Right now? You’re being smart and you’re being brave and you’re putting yourself aside because you know better. You’re being Stiles. The one I like that isn’t creepily in love with me, you big freak.” Lydia smiled through a long suffering sigh, removing herself from his shoulder, “Now. I’m done playing bouncer at your pity party. We are getting you dressed.”

Stiles fiddled with the corner of the phone, letting her choose whatever she wanted with little fuss. He would have to give this back to Derek sometime soon.

Sighing, he pulled on the pants Lydia threw at him and stuffed the device into his back pocket, thinking that of all the foolish things he’d done, befriending Derek Hale might possibly have been his stupidest decision of all.

*

The ride to Lydia’s was a blur. Vaguely, Stiles remembered some fight with Jackson over the radio station (he was still all for Christmas cheer. Jackson wanted some weird jazz or something. The douche) and once they finally agreed, they were parking. Jackson stormed off after that, Lydia’s heels clicking after him threateningly.

Sometimes he wondered how those two managed. Stiles shook his head, loitering in what he hoped was a casual manner and greeting people he didn’t really know. Another glass of champagne is pushed into his hands and while entirely willing, he isn’t exactly looking to get drunk.

Mulling over whether or not a buzz is inappropriate, Stiles downed the glass and settled it near some arguing couple. He felt like it was a sign.

Uneasy, Stiles reached into his back pocket and turned Derek’s newly charged phone back on. He wanted to be rid of it already.

Four missed calls.

It was sad that was actually a good thing when it came to Kate.

A warm tingle spread through his body as he stumbled out onto Lydia’s patio, a beer he found in the back fridge clutched in his hand. Somewhere he could be alone, thank God.

It drained out of him when he caught sight of dark hair and broad shoulders tucked into a lawn chair. Ignoring his stuttering heart, Stiles let his mouth curve up into a gentle smile and walked over, beer like a bottle of liquid courage.

“Whatcha doin’ out here all on your lonesome?”

Derek started slightly, watching him settle into the chair beside him.

“I’m all on my lonesome until Kate comes home, remember?”

 _You don’t have to be,_ Stiles thought to himself, eyes flicking down to his feet. They were angled toward Derek, the way he always was, finding himself pointing in his direction like a broken compass, like Derek was home base. Dragging himself out of those thoughts, Stiles could feel his smile sag and swallowed down the rest of his beer in an attempt to cover it up.

“At least you have someone to kiss at midnight. Which is in,” Stiles paused, sighing and checking his watch, a weak attempt at avoiding the warm amusement in Derek’s eyes. He knew it would suffocate him if he looked too long. “Four minutes. Wow, another year single, nice going Stiles.”

Derek’s lip curled up. “If it makes you feel any better, I technically don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight either.”

Stiles’ eyes went yearning, he could feel it.

Ten…

He shouldn’t do it, he knew he shouldn’t.

Nine, eight, seven, six…

It was a stupid thing to be thinking of. And while he was captain of dumb moves, he wasn’t about to charge into this headlong.

Five, four, three, two…

Yes, he was, who was he kidding.

One…

Steeling himself for another undoubtedly foolish decision, he leaned forward, lips falling against Derek’s. It was chaste, a sweet rush of heat curling his toes. The press of Derek’s hands on his forearms ground him, keeping him in place for a moment longer than he intended.

He pulled away slowly, savoring the release. Derek looked dazed, eyes content. Stiles’ heart pounded in his chest and he wondered idly if Derek was seeing someone else in his place. The look he was giving him made his head spin.

Trying to smile, he backed up another step. “Happy New Year’s, Derek.”

Derek didn’t reply and his eyebrows furrowed. Afraid of what he might let slip, Stiles stumbled off, careening through the patio doors.

After the kiss, after watching Derek, after everything, what he meant to say was, “I’m sorry.”

*

The few days after Christmas were somewhat agonising for Derek. Ever since he saw his picture on Stiles’ phone, ever since Christmas in general, Derek had been fixated on his feelings for Stiles. He knew it’d been making him act weird around the group - and Stiles especially - but it was like every time he told his brain to shut up and think about something else, it did the complete opposite.

It wasn’t that Stiles wasn’t the type of person he could like, it was that he _shouldn’t_ like Stiles. At least not right now. Not while he still felt something for Kate.

He just needed some time to himself. He needed to think, without everyone else butting in.

Which was why Lydia and Jackson’s New Year’s Eve party wasn’t exactly how Derek was planning on spending the night but after a couple of glasses of champagne, he began to loosen up a bit and actually made an effort to enjoy himself. He mingled and he laughed at jokes that weren’t funny. He talked to everyone and politely declined when Lydia demanded he, “ _Try the escargot.”_

Eventually he managed to get some time alone and took the opportunity to duck outside to the patio to get some air. He wasn’t sure what time it was when Stiles found him sitting on one of the lawn chairs in front of the pool. Derek had purposely stayed outside, knowing the cold would ward people off.

“Whatcha doin’ out here all on your lonesome?”

Immediately, Derek knew Stiles was tipsy but as he watched him meander over to a lawn chair he knew Stiles wasn’t flat-out wasted. He was still completely aware of himself.

“I’m all on my lonesome until Kate comes home, remember?” Derek reminded and then proceeded to mentally kick himself. It felt more like he was reminding himself that Kate was still a factor to consider than he was reminding Stiles. What was worse was that he didn’t want to mention Kate around Stiles because it wasn’t fair but he also knew ignoring her was wrong.

Stiles’ smile looked more like a grimace before he lifted his drink in cheers and slugged it back in one go. Derek watched his face pinch up at the strong taste and bit back a smile, his mood lightening.

“At least you have someone to kiss at midnight,” Stiles complained slouching back against his seat. “Which is in,” Stiles checked his watch and sighed. “Four minutes. Wow another year single, nice going, Stiles,” he berated himself.

There were so many things Derek wanted to say in that moment. He wanted to tell him he didn’t have to be alone anymore or that he wanted this or some other stupidly cheesy line. But every word got lost on his tongue. In the end, all he could settle for was, “If it makes you feel any better, I technically don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight tonight either.”

Stiles eyed him speculatively before shrugging and nodding to himself. They sat in silence after that but Derek could see Stiles checking his watch compulsively every few seconds out of the corner of his eye. It made Derek feel fidgety just watching him.

Eventually the countdown inside began. People began shouting, “Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

Stiles sat forward in his chair so quickly it made a scraping noise along the ground.

“Six! Five! Four!”

“Derek,” Stiles called gently. Derek looked up and the last thing he saw was the mingled look of nervousness and determination on Stiles’ face.

“Three! Two! One!”

Stiles surged forward, toppling his seat in the process, and cupped Derek’s face before pressing their lips together. It was chaste and soft and Stiles lips were a little chapped and he tasted like champagne. Derek’s head was swimming; all he could do was latch onto Stiles’ forearms and let his eyes slip shut.

All too quickly, it was over. For the most part, Stiles’ expression was inscrutable but his eyes - they were wide and nervous and he looked a little bit like everything had just fallen into place for him in that moment.

Then, Stiles released him and gave him a wan smile. “Happy New Year, Derek,” he mumbled before he stood up and hurried inside.

And all Derek could think about was how maybe everything had fallen into place for himself too.

*

“What have I done, what have I done…” Stiles muttered under his breath, racing past various guests. Lydia shot him a concerned, slightly agitated look when he passed her, and it made him feel mildly better.

Where is Scott when you need him?

He spotted the other boy lounging on the couch, sitting with his arms around Allison, looking positively elated. Sighing, Stiles made his way through piles of confetti and turned the other direction.

Maybe it could wait.

*

Derek spent what he thought was about half an hour, staring at the pool helplessly before Allison stepped outside. Her heels clicked as she walked and there was a bottle of champagne swishing from where she held it lightly around the neck.

She deposited herself into the seat Stiles had previously vacated with a sigh before turning to Derek with the flutter of her eyelashes and a sleepy smile, “Hi.”

“I kissed Stiles,” he blurted.

Allison’s eyes widened and she sat up in shock. After gaping at him for a moment, she just scoffed and took a swig out of the champagne, “And I thought my love life was confusing.”

Derek narrowed his eyes at her, thinking for the first time that maybe the faint blush on her cheeks wasn’t from the cold. “What happened?”

Allison ducked her head, smiling shyly, “Scott and I kissed…”

Derek was just about to congratulate her when she met his gaze again with a serious expression, “But Scott and I are adults and will talk about what that meant in the morning. You and Stiles, on the other hand, are giant babies who refuse to talk about their feelings, so why don’t you tell Aunty Allison what happened?”

Derek rolled his eyes, snatching the bottle out of her hand and ignoring her smirk. He took a swig before passing it back to her. “We were talking and then the countdown started and he just…he kissed me.”

“Okay wait, did you kiss him or did he kiss you?”

“He kissed me…but I didn’t exactly push him away.”

Allison watched him for a moment, “What did it feel like?” she asked carefully.

Derek furrowed his brow because he had no clue what it felt like, it had barely sunk in that it had actually happened. “I don’t know. It was pretty much over it even started but it felt like…”

“Like everything you never knew you wanted but everything you hoped it would be?” Allison suggested with a knowing smile.

He said yes before he could stop himself and Allison’s smile widened.

Oh whatever. She was right. That was exactly what it felt like; there was no point in denying it.

“Okay,” Allison nodded decisively. “Everyone’s spent the past few months telling you what to do and who to pick et cetera, et cetera but I don’t want to do that because I don’t think it’s helping. So I just have one question.”

She hesitated a moment as if she was waiting for Derek to oppose, “Why do I get the feeling you already know who you want to be with, you’re just too scared to admit it?”

Derek stared down at his hands and then back at the house where he knew Stiles was somewhere, probably freaking out. “What if I make the wrong decision?” he asked quietly.

“Then you make the wrong decision and you deal with it,” she replied. “But you can’t keep going on like this because it’s not good for any of you.”

Derek nodded absently. She made it sound so easy.

Allison gave him one last smile before she stood up, squeezed his shoulder and walked back inside.

*

Stiles ended up in the kitchen, staring out of the Martins’ huge backyard and downing the last of someone’s long forgotten champagne.

“Just you and me, buddy,” he told the glass, figuring he might as well live up to all the people calling him crazy. Derek’s phone felt like it was burning a hole through his pocket. He still hadn’t returned it, after all. Too busy helping Derek cheat on his girlfriend. Guilt gathered heavy in his stomach, organs like lead weights.

A voice knocked him out of his reverie.

“Stilinski!”

And oh, was he familiar with that voice.

“Speaking of crazy…” Stiles muttered, hoping she didn’t have her sonar ears on tonight.

Draining another champagne flute, he braced himself and turned into the livid gaze of Kate Argent. She laughed lowly, the smile plastered on her face eerily still and contrasting frighteningly with the pure menace in her eyes.

“I don’t suppose you would know where Derek is?”

He debated not telling her. Stiles didn’t want to, not now, not when the small, traitorous part he had locked up inside of him was whispering that Derek didn’t even have a chance to consider what that kiss meant to him. If it meant anything at all.

There was always going to be a bigger part of him, though, that wouldn’t let him take what could very well be happiness out of Derek’s reach, not when he cared about him so deeply.

“I - Yeah. I do. C’mon.” Stiles strode out in front of her, knowing that watching her walk towards Derek, watching her run at him without another glance, would hurt him more than leaving his back unguarded under her eyes.

He had no need to be wary of her anymore; she’d already won.

*

“Derek!”

Derek honestly thought he was hallucinating when he saw Kate running towards him and Stiles stopping behind her in the doorway. He stood up just in time for her to leap into his arms and plant a kiss on his mouth. Given the way she called his name and the look on her face before she’d hugged him, he figured the kiss was for Stiles’ benefit.

Oh fuck. _Stiles_.

Derek pulled away from her probably a little too quickly for Kate’s liking and looked over her head, back to the patio door but Stiles had already disappeared. He looked back down at Kate and the smile was completely wiped off her face.

She looked furious.

“We need to talk,” she said finitely.

Yes, he thought. We do.

*

Around 2 in the morning, after staring at the wall in an attempt to avoid watching Kate and Derek’s reunion, he got shamelessly, outrageously drunk in Lydia’s bathtub. The last things he remembered was singing Akon’s “Lonely” at the top of his lungs and using his tie as a microphone. He was also pretty sure that somebody came in and had sex next to him as he belted it out, but he couldn’t really be sure. They probably left when they realized he wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon.

He didn’t care. After all, Lydia had enough alcohol to keep him buzzing the entire way through his many, many renditions. He is also pretty certain that someone tucked something into his pocket just before he passed out.

Around 10 AM, Scott found him blinking blearily at the shower curtain.

“I kissed Derek,” Stiles said, gripping the sides of the tub, swallowing around a lump in his throat.

“What?” Scott was giving him a concerned look, he could feel it.

“I kissed Derek,” Stiles repeated, staring up at Scott miserably. “And then I sent his super sexy, scary-ass girlfriend right into his arms.”

Scott winced, resting his forehead against Stiles’ hand. “I’m sorry, dude.”

He waved his freehand around, clearing the air and attempting a smile. “No biggie. And hey! I saw you with Allison earlier. What went down there?”

Scott, bless him, let the subject change without protest, titling his head up. His eyes were starry and glazed. “We kissed, too. I don’t know if it’s just a New Year’s thing, or what, but I’m happy. I’m happy it was her.”

Stiles laughed, agreed, and wished that Scott’s own light-hearted acceptance would swallow him up.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as Derek shut the door in the empty bedroom Kate rounded on him, a truly scathing look on her face, “So do you want to explain to me why you haven’t answered any of my calls all week or should I just guess?”

Derek frowned in confusion. Kate hadn’t so much as texted him in days. “Calls- what-“ he stopped short, remembering that the battered phone in his pocket didn’t belong to him. “Stiles,” he mumbled with dawning realisation.

Kate scoffed scornfully, “Of course. Too busy with your new friend, was that it?”

“No.” Derek shook his head, trying to keep a hold on his patience. “Stiles has my phone, they got mixed up over Christmas,” he clarified.

“And in all your precious moments together, you never thought to switch back?” she asked, folding her arms and raising an imperious eyebrow.

“I’ve barely  _seen_  Stiles the last couple of days,” he shot back. He actually wasn’t lying. After the way Christmas confused his feelings, he spent the few days between then and New Year’s holed up in his room, trying to make sense of everything.

“We were meant to switch back tonight but then we…” he trailed off, remembering the gentle press of Stiles’ lips to his. He wanted to close his eyes and wrap himself up in the perfect, awful memory of Stiles’ fingers pressing into his skin and the way his nose bumped against Derek’s. The realisation that he wanted to do it again, that he wanted more than anything, to feel that all over again for as long as he could have it was the last break in his resolve. He couldn’t keep going like this, he needed to fix everything. Now.

But Kate interrupted him before he even got the chance to open his mouth. “That’s it. I’m putting my foot down. You need to make a choice, Derek. As long as we’re together, you can’t see him anymore,” she said with finality.

It was the ultimate tipping point. Because any residual thoughts Derek had about Kate being the right person for him had gone out the window as soon as she uttered that ultimatum. Because Kate felt threatened and Derek realised now that she  _should_. Because this wasn’t what he wanted anymore. Because Stiles would never make him pick, he’d want whatever would make Derek happy.

And the only thing that really made Derek happy anymore was him.

“ _I choose him_ ,” he answered distantly, too caught up in his own revelations to really notice the absolutely livid expression that graced Kate’s face.

“Excuse me?” Kate demanded.

“All this time,” he began. “Everyone said it was my decision. That  _I_  had to be the one to choose, and I always thought that was ridiculous because I’m not the only person involved and I didn’t even know how Stiles felt.  But you know what,” Derek laughed hollowly. “It doesn’t matter how Stiles feels. Because no matter what happens; I’m going to be better off without you.”

Kate’s bravado faltered for a moment before the mask slipped back up, “Derek, I’m going to give you ten seconds to take that back.”

Derek shook his head, slipping the phone out of his pocket and eyeing it for a moment before meeting Kate’s gaze again. “I’m done, Kate.”

Once Derek left the room, he went in search of Stiles but everyone he asked said they hadn’t seen him in over an hour and every room he went into, he came up empty. He eventually resigned himself to the fact that Stiles must have left and agreed to go home when Isaac and Laura found him a little after two. They were both flushed and giggling and holding hands not so surreptitiously.

He graciously decided not to ruin their night by telling them what happened with Kate and pretended not to notice the heart eyes they were giving each other in the cab ride home.

He’d just talk to Stiles tomorrow.

*

“I think I’m dying, Scott,” Stiles moaned, leaning into his best friend.

Scott snorted, shoving him away by the face. “Don’t do it on me.”

“What kind of comforting friend are you? You’re supposed to be petting my hair or something, I just had a  _very_  traumatic experience. Plus, I’m hungover. That kind of double whammy is enough to put anyone else into a deep depression, you know.”

“You really want me to say that I feel bad for you?” Scott asked, raising his eyebrows. He sighed.

“No. Sorry.” A vibration started up against his thigh. He shoved his arm over his eyes. “Ugh, what is with her? I want my phone back.”

“Kate?” Scott asked, wincing. He took the phone from where it was hanging between Stiles’ fingers. “You should probably return it, dude.”

“You know I don’t wanna see him. Not after that.” Stiles peeked at him from under his elbow.

It was a very pitiful look, he has been told. Mostly by Jackson, but whatever. He could use that to his advantage. And if it actually worked out the way he wanted, what a good thing to hold over the other boy’s head - your insult helped me get Scott to return the phone of the man I’m in love with to him because I am wussing out and drowning in self-pity.

It even sounded bad in his head. Scott grinned. “You could ask, you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I’m still holding out for a late blooming telepathy to develop between the two of us,” Stiles grumbled, knocking their shoulders together.

Scott sighed, pseudo-long suffering. “Good enough. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.”

“Do you think- ” He shook his head. “We’re driving back up, yeah?”

“In the morning, before we go,” Scott assured him, sticking the phone into his pocket and pulling out his own.

“...Thanks, Scott.”

Stiles threw the blanket over his head and groaned again, because there was only so much in him that  _couldn’t_  milk this opportunity for moping.

*

“It was great, Dad,” Stiles said, smiling. His father dragged him in for one last hug. “Please, don’t cry or we’ll both start and no one will respect you anymore and you’ll have to get a job selling drugs to the broken youths on the streets - ”

“Stiles,” the Sheriff laughed, holding up his hands. “No tears here. Good to see you again, Scott.”

Scott dimpled and placed a hand on Stiles’ elbow. “We’d better get going if I’m going to stop at Derek’s beforehand.”

Stiles’ father gave them a curious look, but said nothing. Stiles felt the crushing weight of the way his father’s eyebrows furrowed and turned away.

“I’ll call,” he said over his shoulder and let Scott walk him to the car. He buckled his seatbelt and pulled Derek’s phone out of his pocket. Flipped it a few times. Waited. Scott followed a few seconds later, sliding into the driver’s seat and holding out his hand.

Stiles stared at it, confused. “The phone,” Scott grinned. Surprisingly, he was a little reluctant to let it go. He shouldn’t be such a wuss, really. Not with Derek. The name brought a stutter to his pulse and he cursed it, turning in his to wave his father good-bye.

Scott revved the engine.

*

“Here’s your phone, dude,” Isaac said as he entered Derek’s room. He chucked it across the room and Derek caught it with surprise. He looked down at his phone; in immaculate condition, same screen saver, seventeen missed calls and nine texts from Kate from the past week. He looked at his nightstand and saw that Stiles’ phone wasn’t there anymore.

“I don’t get it,” Derek said helplessly, looking up at Isaac.

Isaac gave him a sympathetic smile, “Scott came by this morning to switch them back.”

“But why?”

“Because you can’t keep using each other’s phones?” He was playing dumb. It was clear whatever the problem was, he didn’t want to tell Derek the truth.

“Isaac,” Derek replied flatly.

Isaac sighed heavily and flopped down on the bed next to Derek. “I don’t know, man, okay? Scott came over this morning while you were still asleep, said Stiles wanted to switch the phones before they drove back to campus.”

“They’re already driving back?” he asked, feeling somewhat crestfallen. He’d wanted to talk to Stiles today.

“Left right after they swung by here,” Isaac answered simply.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Derek watched as Isaac winced and stared pointedly at his hands before eventually making eye contact again.

“I don’t really know the full story but I kind of got the impression Stiles didn’t want to see you?” he shrugged apologetically.

Did that mean- was Stiles having second thoughts about their kiss?

That had to be it, didn’t it? That was the last time they spoke to or saw each other. Why else would be avoiding Derek? Oh god.

Derek groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face with his hands. “I think I know why,” he mumbled.

“You gonna tell me?” Isaac prompted when he didn’t say anymore.

Derek took his hands away from his face and frowned. “Not until I talk to Stiles,” he decided, heaving himself up into a sitting position again and grabbing his phone. He tried calling but it went straight to voicemail. He tried sending a text next, a simple, “Can we talk?” and forced himself to put his phone down until there was a reply.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and looked away from the nightstand to see Isaac giving him an encouraging smile. “I’m gonna leave you to it. Let me know when you want to talk.”

Derek nodded his appreciation, watched Isaac leave the room and then turned right back to staring at his phone.

After fifteen minutes he cracked and called again but there was no answer.

Throughout the rest of day he called and texted sporadically but when he was going to bed that night his phone was silent.

*

“You’re gonna have to eat something, buddy,” Scott said, leaning over into his bed. Stiles threw the blanket over his head, groaning.

“Did you bring bacon?”

He could imagine the other boy rolling his eyes. “Duh.”

God, Scotty was first class. He threw the blanket back again, sitting up. “Okay, fine.” He took a piece, biting messily and wiping at his chin.

“How long are you gonna keep this up?”

“Long as it lasts,” Stiles replied, leaning into the wall behind them. Scott mimicked his movement. They’re quiet for a moment, thinking.

“He’s stupid, you know,” he said, frowning and shuffling hash browns out of the plastic to-go box onto his fork. “Derek. He was so cool and then he had to go and be a jackass. Why did he even kiss you anyway?”

“Technically, I kissed him,” Stiles pointed out, grabbing for a fork and breaking the plastic against his knee. “Or maybe he kissed me. We kissed each other? You’re so right, Scott.”

His best friend beamed at the praise. Stiles’ phone vibrated between the two of them. His eyes moved down to stare at it.

“You’re not gonna get that?”

“No ‘ay, dude,” he said around a full mouth. “S’Derek.”

“Why not just block his number?”

Stiles gave him a miserable look, then stared down at his toes. Scott winced.

“That bad?”

He nodded. Scott’s eyebrows furrowed. “Such a jerk.”

Stiles nodded again, suckling on the plastic fork and dipping his finger in ketchup. The other boy grabbed the phone, clicking ignore. “He won’t call again,” Scott said, tucking the phone into his own pocket. “I’ll run it across campus if it’s your Dad or something, okay? If you’re going to hole yourself up, you don’t need this. It’s just keeping the bad vibes, bro. And he won’t break in or anything either, I’ll have Lydia at the door.”  

“You’re enlisting Lydia for me? Ugh, love you, man,” Stiles said, mock-sniffing and fanning his face. Scott shoved him back into the pillows and laughed, throwing his arms around Stiles’ neck.

“I’m getting some real mixed signals on if you love me too, though.”

 _I’ll be okay_ , he thought as Scott turned on the TV.  _With time away._

*

Trying to talk to Stiles was proving to be literally impossible.

He refused to answer any of Derek’s calls or texts. Whenever Derek went to the library when he knew for a  _fact_  Stiles was working, Lydia was always at the desk. If he asked her where Stiles was she’d give him an icy glare that honestly made him feel like his balls were retracting into his body. After his sixth try in two days he just gave up.

He went to Stiles’ dorm but Scott always answered the door and Stiles was always mysteriously “not there” even though Derek was about ninety per cent positive Stiles was inside and could, in fact, hear him.

There was also the weird moment on his first night back on campus where Jackson Whittemore showed up on his doorstep, punched his arm and said, “Fix it.” He left before Derek could tell him that’s what he was trying to do.

On his third trip to Scott and Stiles’ room he resorted to begging. “Scott,  _please_. I need to talk to him about something really important.”

“Which would be…?” Scott prompted expectantly. It was weird. Scott wasn’t mean or nasty and he wasn’t acting like that now either. He was still polite but there was a fierce protectiveness in his words and Derek had to remind himself he was just caring for his best friend.

He was frozen for a minute. He didn’t want anyone else hearing about his feelings for Stiles before Stiles himself found out. And if he was telling Stiles’ friends then he’d  _definitely_  find out. It meant he had to awkwardly mutter, “I can’t tell you,” and hope Scott could guess.

“Then I can’t help you.” To be fair, Scott looked genuinely sorry that he had to say it.

He nodded resignedly and was headed back down the hall before Scott even closed the door.

Maybe he  _should_  just give up. Stiles obviously didn’t want to talk to him. That didn’t make Derek’s odds seem that good. But he needed Stiles to know. He needed to tell him that he broke up with Kate, that he’d been a complete fucking idiot this entire time for not seeing what was right in front of his eyes. That he was all in, that he’d take whatever Stiles would give him.

And if Stiles decided it wasn’t what he wanted then Derek would deal with it. He’d probably spend a week in his pyjamas, eating out of a tub of ice-cream and watching rom-coms with Erica that would only make him feel worse but he’d deal with it.

He just needed Stiles to actually give him the time of day first.

*

They were having lunch at the café on campus when Lydia spotted Derek taking a seat at a table by the door. When Scott caught her scowling he turned around to see what she was looking at, frowning slightly to himself. As soon as Jackson noticed them his disinterested expression turned into a glare.

Allison looked at all of them with a raised eyebrow before saying, “Why are we giving Derek the death glare?”

“He and Stiles kissed on New Year’s. When Stiles saw him again later on he was with Kate like nothing had happened,” Scott replied, his frown still firmly in place.

“Wait, what?” Allison shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about? Kate and Derek broke up.”

Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at her and Lydia asked in a very calm and restrained manner, “And when did this happen?”

“The same night,” Allison replied like it was obvious. “Derek came to talk to me, told me he kissed Stiles and I told him to make a decision since he clearly already knew what he wanted but was too afraid to admit it. As soon as Kate arrived he broke up with her.”

“And you’re only telling us this  _now_?” Danny asked in disbelief.

“I thought you knew!” Allison protested. “Kate’s been on a warpath for the past three days. And I thought for sure Derek would’ve told Stiles by now.”

Lydia shared a look with Scott and he looked away guiltily. Allison narrowed her eyes at them. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Scott insisted. “Just, Stiles was sure the only reason Derek was calling him was because he wanted to tell him he was gonna stay with Kate and he sort of wanted to avoid that situation so we’ve kind of been preventing Derek from talking to him.”

Danny started laughing unashamedly at what a ridiculous situation it was but Jackson cut him off by asking, “So does this mean Hale actually wants to be with Stilinski?”

“Yes,” Allison huffed, rolling her eyes.

“We have to tell him where Stiles is,” Scott said suddenly, making to stand up. “We have to tell him so they can talk and-“

“Way ahead of you,” Lydia responded, pushing out from the table and making her way to Derek.

She was about two feet away from Derek when Scott rushed past her. “He’s at the library!” he all but yelled in Derek’s face.

Derek stared at him in bewilderment before looking up and meeting Lydia’s – and everyone else’s, since they were all suddenly at Derek’s table – gaze. “There’s old stacks at the very back, on the third floor, he goes there when he wants to be alone,” Lydia clarified. “He’s there right now.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Derek asked warily.

“We may have gotten our wires crossed,” Scott admitted sheepishly.

“What he _means_ ,” Allison said. “Is that because I was too busy dealing with post-break up Kate, these knuckleheads didn’t realise you two weren’t together anymore.”

Derek was looking at them like he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to kill them or thank them until Lydia huffed and made a shooing gesture. “Would you go already? I’m bored with playing guard dog.”

Derek looked over all their faces before nodding and smiling slightly. He stood up and practically ran out the door, only waving a hand in response to Scott’s encouraging call of, “Good luck!”

*

 _This is the reason I the job at the library_ , Stiles thought, running his fingers over the books. They’d gathered a little dust, but he didn’t mind. It was small, shielded, high enough that no one ever really came up here. He stumbled upon it around the same time a year ago and nearly renounced his crush on Lydia in a fervent passion for the place.

Half the books are also in a foreign language, which may be why it was avoided. He liked looking at the covers though, when he wanted time to pass slow. Tried his hand at reading them. (It never worked out well, but it gave him a laugh, opting out of google translating. He liked his guesses better than what the words actually meant.)

It all made him feel like everything could be what he wanted it to be. No one was telling him how to feel.

Someone’s breathing broke into his quiet reverie. Heavy breathing. Stiles frowned, crossing his arms. The one time he needed peace someone had to go and find his spot, too? What the fuck was his life.

“Stiles.”

And he knew that voice. Icing on the cake, wasn’t it?

He could feel his shoulders coming up like a cat’s hackles would rise. He turned slowly. Derek was a mess - hair sticking up every which way, eyes wild. He hated how it was still so, so attractive.

“Derek,” Stiles replied, jaw tight. He was surprised he even got any words around his connected teeth.

“I - ” He looked down at his feet and Stiles sighed, trying to hold onto what was left of his anger. His resolve. His disappointment. “Me and Kate, we…”

The idea of Kate made it come back in full force. He wasn’t sure if that was a plus or not, but it worked.

“I don’t want to hear about you and your girlfriend, Derek,” he said, eyelashes fluttering. “I don’t - you should know that.”

“I do,” Derek said emphatically, shuffling closer. He cleared his throat. “We broke up. She wasn’t… what I wanted, in the end.”

Stiles’ heart was the loudest thing in the room, roaring like the sea. He tried to stomp down on the hope inflating between his ribs. “Why are you telling me?”

Derek’s face flickers, mouth turning down. “I thought. Look, if you want to - put this all behind us, the kiss, if you want to take it back, it’s okay. But I don’t think I could let you go thinking that you didn’t - don’t - mean anything to me. Mean something more than… more than a friend. I didn’t know what I wanted for so long and then I met you and you were absolutely  _infuriating_. And then you weren’t and I - ”

He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were still against Stiles’ gaze, meeting it carefully. “I think that I love you. And if you wanted to try, I think it wouldn’t be completely horrible.”

“Wow, thanks,” Stiles said, but he was grinning so hard the sarcasm was practically null. “And, for the record, I don’t wanna put this behind us.”

Derek’s hands twitched, still unsure, and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Isn’t this the point where you kiss me or something?”

“If I  _have_  to.” Derek grinned.

And he did. Stiles felt Derek’s grin against his mouth as he pulled him, their fingers tangling together. After a second Stiles pulled away with a smirk, “By the way, I think I love you too, dumbass.”

Derek blinked once in surprise before pressing his lips to Stiles’ with a laugh and mumbling, “Good.”

+

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER. 
> 
> Oh my goodness you guys, this is the end! Ah, it's been such a big part of my life in the past year. :) I'm sorry this update took so long - I know that I was kind of procrastinating on it because I was a little sad to see it go haha. I hope you loved as much as I did and I'm so happy to have done this thing with Ciara, who is perfect, and with anyone who has gotten this far. Thank-you so much for the support, it's been amazing. <3 
> 
> \- Hela (aka rosyposey)
> 
> I just wanna quickly add to what Hela said! First off, as she said, sorry for the wait! procrastination was killer for finishing this. But thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading, commenting, subscribing and for all the kudos. This was the first sterek fic I'd ever written and it's all down to Hela and her encouragement and fabulous talent so it's weird having it finally finished :') I sincerely hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it. Thank you <3
> 
> \- Ciara (CiaraWrites)

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I hope you liked this! I'm Hela, and this is also co-written with one of my online bests, Ciara. :) You can follow me on tumblr at [ pillowfortposey](http://pillowfortposey.tumblr.com/) and find Ciara at [ allyasavedtheday](http://allyasavedtheday.tumblr.com/). Drop by and say hi anytime! ^^


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